Heading Home
by tinseltown
Summary: Aftermath of CA: TWS. The Winter Soldier is lost. He doesn't know what to do next or where to turn. But with the help of some unexpected people, he's going to try his hardest to figure out who he truly is. Can Bucky Barnes ever be who he used to be?
1. Chapter 1

_Note: Hi, guys. So I actually have no idea what this is, if it's going to be a story or just a one-shot or a ficlet… I just wanted to write about this topic, so let's see how far I go with it. I guess it's almost like a character study? But yeah. I honestly have no idea what this is so far. _

The Winter Soldier was lost.

Not only was he emotionally and mentally lost, but he was also _physically_ lost. After he had left that man—the one they called "Captain America", the one who was named Steve, the one who claimed to know _him_—laying on the bank of the Potomac River, he had wandered away into the woods and he had kept wandering aimlessly. He didn't need to eat or sleep as much as normal humans did and in his stupor, he had wandered farther than he thought he would and he had ended up trekking through the woods and then through some mountains and then down some highways (passing unbeknownst in the woods near the highways, of course) and then he had ended up in some small town. By this time, he truly _was_ hungry and tired and feeling ill, but he still had no idea what to do. He had no money, no one to contact, no place to go. HYDRA had never put him in a situation like this…but he was no longer a part of HYDRA.

At least he didn't think he was. He was extremely confused and he didn't know what to do.

What he really wanted was some peace and quiet—a place to stay and sleep and think. Ponder. But first he needed to change his clothes. He hadn't been aware of it at first (since HYDRA had never let him wander aimlessly in public) but his all-black tough-looking outfit and cybernetic arm attracted a lot of attention…the wrong sort of attention. The one time he'd wandered out onto a smaller road winding through the mountains and had passed a young girl, probably in her early twenties, jogging by, she'd looked at him and immediately had crossed the street, speeding up considerably. He could sense her unease, could see her fight-or-flight response kicking in right away. He figured it was probably his outfit and arm that had scared her—though it may have also been the fact that he was a man who was considerably larger than her and had disheveled hair and a grime-covered face. He'd never been a model for cleanliness and clothing, but even he could realize that he looked like a rat that had crawled out of a gutter.

So he went dumpster diving. A part of him realized how humiliated he should have felt about this—from going to one of the most feared and legendary assassins on the planet to a confused wandered who had to stoop through going through trash for clothing—but he was too confused and lost to care much. He'd found a small wooden house in the woods and he'd rifled through their garbage bags and he managed to find a pair of paint-stained workman light-wash jeans that was honestly too large on him and a flannel shirt that smelled faintly of urine, though he tried not to question it any further. He kept his own boots, however; they were highly competent. He even managed to find a pair of workman's gloves in a tool shed in the back and he stole them, pulling them on over his hands. Now his cybernetic arm was completely covered. He'd been loath to throw his own clothes away, however; they were highly useful in combat, and combat was all he knew. So he found a cloth sack that looked like it was stained with blood (probably deer blood) in the tool shed, stuffed his own clothes into it, and carried the bag on his back. Now he looked like a dirty, disheveled trucker, which wasn't much better than looking like a dirty, disheveled assassin—at least for the female population around—but there wasn't much he could do about that. He stayed away from homes and villages anyway.

When he got hungry, he found ways to steal food from dumpsters behind small-town diners. He slept in the woods. Nothing bothered him; his hyperaware senses would have woken him if a large animal were prowling around. He didn't know where he was going but he knew he didn't want to stop walking. He wondered if he'd aimlessly wander the planet forever. He wasn't going back to HYDRA, that much was for sure. After what had happened in D.C., HYDRA had suffered major setbacks anyway. He had the feeling they were still out there—but they were weaker than they were before. They probably assumed him dead; this was good. He didn't want to be searched for.

And then there was the matter of the man…Steve. The one who kept insisted he knew him, his name was Bucky, that they were _friends_. The Winter Soldier had never had any "friends." He'd never been allowed any friends; he was a killing machine, nothing more. Woken up from the ice when there was a job, put in the chair after (where _something _torturously painful was done to him, though what exactly it was, he couldn't say), and then back into the ice. He'd been out around enough times over the last few decades to gather a decent understanding of the world—but then again, every time he came out, the world was different. He vaguely, blurrily, remember a time when the women on the streets only seemed to wear dresses. Now they dressed like men.

And the memories came with pain. Not just the vague, blurry images of the world around him—the _true _memories, the ones that were sharper and brighter but also disappeared more quickly, flickering into his mind and then out of it right away. Memories of his past…his _true _past, of the person he'd once been. Someone named James Buchanan Barnes. That was the name that Steve man had used. Nickname "Bucky." Something about "end of the line, buddy." That line stuck out to him. It had frozen his muscles during his last fight with Steve, had grabbed a hold of him. And then Steve had fallen out of the helicarrier and he had watched in horror and confusion and rage as Captain America disappeared under the waters.

Throbbing pain. The kind that made him want to curl up and whimper and cut open his own head and rip out his brain, blood and brain matter leaking between his flesh and silver fingers alike. The memories brought a flood of nausea and one time, between the pain and the nausea, the world had spun so horribly and painfully that he had simply keeled over.

It was from this fainting spell that he woke to someone hesitantly prodding him with something. "Hey—hey, uh…are you okay? Yo—" They prodded him a little more forcefully. "Are you, like, dead? Can you hear me?"

The Winter Soldier's eyes sprang open and he moved as if on autopilot. A few weeks of confusion couldn't cancel out decades of instinct. He leaped to his feet in a single move, ignoring the ache in his whole body, grabbed the person by the throat and slammed them against the tree so hard they let out a low groan of pain. Blinking the hair out of his eyes, the Winter Soldier looked at who was struggling in his grasp—a young man, probably around sixteen-year-old.

"Dude—sorry!" the fellow was gasping, his face turning an unnatural shade as he fought for breath, kicking his legs futilely in the air. He was a tall boy, and looked reasonably well-built for his age, but he was no match for the Winter Soldier. "I was—checking to see if you were _okay_—you are—please let me—go!"

The Winter Soldier stared at the boy, not knowing what to do, his fingers squeezing a little tighter—the boy began to turn a bit purple in the face—and then suddenly he let him go and took a step back. The boy dropped to the ground and immediately began gasping for breath and massaging his neck. He watched as the boy looked up at him, eyes watering and wide with alarm, coughing, and staggered to his feet, clearly terrified. He took off running without a backwards glance. The Winter Soldier realized it might be time to disappear in a different direction; should the boy tell anyone about him, he might have HYDRA descending upon him any minute. HYDRA had warned him about the Internet these days. "Don't ever get caught on film," he'd been told, "and stay out of the public view. People can—and will—put anything online these days and once its online, it can go viral in a matter of seconds." He didn't really understand what that meant exactly but he got the gist of it.

He began to walk in a different direction. This time he got deeper into the woods and he began to question if he was heading towards civilization or away from it, when he chanced upon a lone highway cutting through. He stopped at the edge and pondered, in that dull, heavy sort of way he had. It was a very glazed way of thinking, one that didn't care one or the other what happened because he was so lost. He knew what hitchhiking was…did he dare do it now? His cybernetic arm wasn't visible. No one would have reason to film him or talk about him on the Internet. He decided to give it a chance. He didn't have a car of his own and walking was getting tiring. His headaches and nausea were also making life increasingly difficult. He'd vomited the other day and now he smelled even worse.

He waited over an hour and then he saw a lone car driving around the bend. Twilight had fallen. He stepped forward and put one gloved thumb up. The car slowed when it got near him and the passenger side window rolled down. A young woman—early twenties?—leaned over to look at him. She had dark brunette hair in a high ponytail, an elfin, pixie-ish sort of face, and astonishingly blue eyes that looked just like Steve's eyes.

_"I'm with you till the end of the line, buddy."_

Shuddering away the memory that twinged at his mind, he stepped forward, unsure of what to say. Was there a dialogue for this moment? He ended up staring at the woman, nothing come to mind. To his credit, _she _was plenty silent as well. She stared at him and a part of him was a bit startled that she didn't seem frightened of him that way other women would have been. She merely looked contemplative. Finally, she spoke: "Well?" she said. "Are you going to tell me where you're going?"

He tried to think of an answer but nothing came to mind. He didn't even know where he was. He didn't know what he wanted to do. "I don't know," he said. His voice was low and raspy from disuse and he internally cringed at how dangerous he sounded. Whatever type of man he had been before, he was a through-and-through killing machine right now. Did it fit? Did it work with who he was? He didn't know.

"Okay," said the young woman. "Any idea of…what you'd like to do? Are you going to visit someone? Need to get away from the police?" she joked. Her smile slid off her face when she saw that he wasn't laughing. At all.

"I need to…" He cleared his throat. "Get away. A place to stay."

"Okay…?" she said, obviously confused. "Do you have money?"

"No," he said.

"Do you have a cell phone?" she asked.

"No," he said.

"Do you have a _name_?" she asked.

"No…" he said slowly. _"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes!" _"No name."

She looked at him and she looked a bit worried now—but _for _him, instead of herself. She bit her lip and a part of him could tell she was internally wrestling with some idea, but he wasn't sure what it was. He was just about to say, "Never mind," and walk away from the car—clearly this had been an awful idea—when she suddenly said, "Get in."

He was surprised—why was she letting a strange, dirty man who didn't know where he wanted to go into her car? Did women these days have no self-preservation?—but he didn't argue. She unlocked the door and he got in silently, shutting the door. He waited for her to move the car but she didn't. He looked over at her and she raised an eyebrow. "Seatbelt," she said. "Or I'm not moving the car."

He had no way of telling her that a seatbelt was a laughable concept for him. He would survive any car accident relatively unscathed. But he couldn't tell her that without revealing who he was (and who was that, really?), so he put on the seatbelt. _Then _she began to drive. They sat in silence, him staring out the window at the dark blurred forest whizzing past them. He was aware that he smelled very unpleasant and was dirty, as well, but the woman didn't say a word about it. Perhaps she was scared? He chanced her a tiny glance. She was staring out the windshield. Her posture was relaxed but a worried expression furrowed her brow and she was tapping her steering wheel a little too quickly. Anxiety. He looked back out the window, wondering where they were going. Wondering whether it mattered.

What he needed was files. This he had deduced during his weeks of walking. Files on _him_, the Winter Soldier. But he had no idea on how to get them. HYDRA moved headquarters frequently and would surely have gone into hiding after this latest debacle. He needed to find someone who could help him files. He was advanced in ways that other people weren't—he could fight, he could track down a target, he was an arms expert—but he wasn't sure how to track down the organization which had held him for so long.

The drive was silent and lasted two hours and the woman didn't attempt to say anything to him, for which he was somewhat grateful. He didn't want to answer any questions. If she got too nosy, he might have to hurt her to shut her up and he didn't want to leave a trail of bodies after him. That would get him tracked down faster than ever. Because there surely _were_ people tracking him down, though whether it would be HYDRA or that Captain America guy, he had no idea.

_He was laying on something hard. Something cold. Hard, rough, scratchy things—straps?—held him down and chafed at his arms and legs. The light above him was blurry and he felt a bit dazed and dreamy. He knew something was wrong…he wasn't supposed to be here. This wasn't right. He was…James… His eyes closed and he mumbled something, not sure what it was. His own voice sounded a bit hollow to his own ears. And then someone was shaking him lightly, hissing his name, cutting the straps that held him down. He opened his eyes and saw a red, blue, and white shield hanging near his face. The American flag painted onto it. He looked up and saw a familiar face._

"AAAAGH!" He threw his body weight against the door, slamming the door open and leaping out, rolling to absorb the impact (it was instinct at this point). He heard the car screech, the woman scream, and then suddenly everything was silent. He didn't notice; he was too busy bending over the side of the road, retching at the blinding pain that was suddenly stabbing him in the head. The memory had been more clear than any before and white-hot pain blinded him behind his eyes to the point where he couldn't stop himself from gagging and retching, trying his hardest not to pass out. But his stomach was mostly empty, so he was basically retching up spit and this made the nausea even worse. He was only vaguely aware of the lady bending near him, putting a hand on his back, but he slammed his metal hand out wildly and he heard her groan as she landed backwards on her butt with a thud.

Once the retching had subsided, he sat back on his haunches, blinking away the blurriness from his eyes. Tears? No. Sweat, he decided. The Winter Soldier didn't _cry_. It was so human. What would he even cry about? His whole face was covered with a sheen of sweat and he felt uncomfortably warm in his clothes, even these regular workman clothes. He looked over at the woman, who had gotten to her feet by now. She didn't look any worse for the wear, considering he'd punched her with his metal arm. He must not have put much force in it because if he had punched her at his full force, he would have punched a hole clear through her. He was suddenly glad he hadn't done that.

He sat there, breathing heavily. The woman gave him space, moving her car to the side of the road and leaning against it, arms crossed, patient. He couldn't help but wonder if she had a life. Not that _he _was one to talk, but didn't regular humans have better things to do than pick up strangers from the road and watch them get sick?

Finally, she spoke. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," he said hoarsely, standing up. "I'm going to get going."

"Oh no, you're not," she said. "I knew you had—" She stopped and took a deep breath. "But now that I know you're _physically _sick…I'm not going to leave you alone."

He didn't know how to tell her that he wasn't sick. It was the memories, doing their work. And besides, even if he was "sick", he'd heal quickly. Another perk of being a superhuman. He didn't have to worry about human illnesses. But to his immense alarm, she walked up to him and firmly said, "You're going to come with me, okay?" She didn't touch him, for which he was eternally grateful. If she had, he might just have blasted her into the next galaxy.

Surprising himself, he got back into the car. He didn't know why. He didn't seem to know why he did _anything _these days. But a part of him was partly glad that she had been firm with him. She had given him an almost-order. He was good with orders. He was built for orders. They gave him a sense of security. Follow the orders, do your job, and nothing went wrong. Nothing went _right_, either—he was never rewarded for his jobs—but it was better than being terminated like the…other ones. The ones who went rogue, who started killing random people, or who ran away.

Like he was doing now. He was a rogue. HYDRA would get him for this. For a moment, something like fear went down his spine as he remembered sitting in the chair and the torturous pain…whatever they did to him…

The drive for the next hour was silent as well. He was expecting her to take him to a hospital and he was planning on running the second she got there—he didn't need doctors looking at him like a dissection and then alerting the authorities—but to his surprise, they pulled up to a small split-level house in a quiet, tiny town near the mountains. He spoke for the first time in ages, clearly his throat, and asked, "Where are we?"

"North Carolina," she said.

He had walked as far as North Carolina without realizing it. Interesting.

"What are we doing here?" he asked.

"This is my house," she said. "Get out. Come inside—but quietly. The neighbors are nosy. If they see you, they'll spread it."

"Spread what?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "I live alone. I'm bringing a guy inside my house."

He had no idea what she meant, to be honest. His head was pounding and he felt dizzy again and it hurt to think about anything. But he still asked, "Why did you bring me here?"

"You're obviously ill," she said, "and you're obviously hiding from someone. I can help you."

He should have gotten out of the car and walked away. He should have gotten out of the car, killed her—god knows he had killed enough people by now, what did one more matter?—and left. He should have disappeared. He was good at that. Instead, he stepped out of the car, swayed for a moment, and then the ground was swirling up to meet his face and everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

When his eyes opened, he was laying on a bed—a too-small bed. His feet hung off the edge slightly. A fan hummed somewhere in the room. He lay there for a moment, disoriented. His skin felt sweaty, his hair was sticking to his face, and he was uncomfortably aware of how bad he smelled. And then he suddenly sat up straight, his assassin instincts kicking in. Just because he no longer worked for HYDRA didn't mean he could un-learn what they had taught him—nor should he. He would be a target for several people if they learned he was alive, so he had to constantly be on his guard.

However, his balance was a bit off because he still felt ill and also he hadn't slept like this—on a soft, fluffy mattress—since…well, ever. He'd had a bare room in some HYDRA compound with a hard cot for the days when he wasn't in action but couldn't go back in the ice yet. So he stumbled as he leaped to his feet and bumped into the delicate-looking night table. A white ceramic swan fell off and shattered on the ground and he stared at it in dismay. Not that a ceramic swan was of any importance to him—but what if mattered to the lady? He hadn't meant to destroy it.

The door opened and he whipped around to see the woman (really, what was her name? That was probably something he should learn sometime soon) peeked in. "Oh, good! You're awake—" She paused when she saw the shattered ceramic swan. She stared at it for a moment and he couldn't read her face. He thought something close to upset flickered across her face, but the next second she was smiling slightly. "No big deal. It was just an old thing I got from Home Goods. I've made food. Would you like some?"

Now that she mentioned food, the Winter Soldier realized just how hungry he was. He nodded and followed her silently out the room down a small hallway, down two steps, into a kitchen area. She'd set out two serving dishes of noodles and red pasta sauce and she gestured to it. "You first."

Had the Winter Soldier been a normal man, he might have recognized that this was his cue to say, "No, please, _you _first." But he didn't think about courtesies like that and he took a seat at the table, looking around silently. The first thing he did when he was in any location was assess any and all entryways that either enemies could come through or that he could escape from. He didn't really see much of a problem here; she had some normal windows in her family room that he could easily shatter and duck out of in a matter of seconds. He pondered for a few minutes what he would do if someone _did _come in and attack them. He wasn't in much of a shape to fight someone, but he could if he needed to. It would be easier to escape. However…there was the matter of the woman. Did he stick around to save her? She was irrelevant to him, but she _had _let him stay in one of her rooms… It took him a few minutes before he realized she was asking him a question. "What?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"I asked, is there something you'd like to drink?" she asked.

"Uh, water," he said, naming the first thing he could think of.

"Okay," she said. She turned away to get a glass of water and he watched her closely to make sure she wasn't putting anything into it. He didn't _really _think she was some sort of enemy at this point—but he couldn't let his guard down so easily. As he watched her, he cleared his throat and then said, "Uh, what's your name?"

"What's _yours_?" she joked, setting the glass in front of him. Before he could answer, she said seriously, "Just kidding. My name is Aritamis Madden. But you can call me Ari."

Aritamis. A strange name. Not a name he'd heard before. But he could work with it. "Okay…Ari," he said slowly, testing it out. She smiled encouragingly.

They ate in silence. She didn't look at him directly but he could feel her gaze on him when she thought he wouldn't notice. It was a very clinical gaze, as if she were assessing him. It made him feel self-conscious and annoyed but he didn't know what to say so he said nothing about it. After he was done eating, she gathered all their plates and put them into the sink and clapped her hands once. "Okay! You need to take a bath. Sorry, I don't have a shower," she added apologetically. "This house is…old. I should renovate, but…yeah. Anyway. Do you think you can manage that?"

He stood up and nodded stiffly. She let him to the bathroom and ushered him inside, closing the door and calling through it, "Feel free to use the soaps up!" which _might _have been her polite way of saying, "You smell disgusting, please use as much fragrant soap is needed to make yourself smell delightful." And he agreed. He'd never used cologne or anything before but he'd never been this filthy before.

He undressed slowly, wincing at all the aches and pains that stabbed through him, and then a wave of nausea hit him and he fell to the ground, hitting the floor with his knees with an extremely loud _thud _sound. He heard footsteps and then Ari was calling through the door, "Are you okay? I heard…noises."

He wanted to say he was fine but as he gripped the counter to stand up, a shocking pain went through his head and he groaned instead, wondering what the hell was happening to him. It felt like he was being obliterated from the inside out. Was this some backup plan of HYDRA's? Destroy him somehow if he managed to escape from them? Had they planted something in him to kill him internally?

When he didn't immediately respond, Ari knocked firmly once and then entered, looking worried. When she saw him kneeling on the ground, she didn't look embarrassed, to her credit. Her eyes widened for a moment at his cybernetic arm and he braced himself for her to start screaming or hurling frantic questions at him—but instead a determined, professional expression came over her face. "Right. It's clear you're unable to bathe yourself. I'm going to help."

"Wh—NO!" he managed. This was beyond humiliating. The Winter Soldier, reduced to this? Being _bathed _like some sort of squalling infant by a woman half his size? He would never allow it.

"Except you will," said Ari. He had spoken his last thought out loud without even realizing it. "Because you're filthy and while I'd like you to be clean for my, and my house's, sake, it's _more _important that you get clean for your own health. All the dirt on you can lead to you getting some sort of infection. I can see you have wounds even from here. Do you want them to get infected?"

_They won't_, he wanted to say, but he couldn't make the words come out. She helped him and then helped him into the bath. The next half hour was a half hour the Winter Soldier wished _would _be erased from his mind. Ari, on her part, was very professional. She kept her eyes on his face, scrubbed him briskly, and didn't seem to be embarrassed or hesitant at all. The only things she asked him was if the water was too hot or too cold and to tell him if she was hurting him. She avoided scrubbing his cybernetic arm and kept it elevated out of the water. He couldn't comprehend how she could be so calm in a situation like this. On _his _part, it was less being unclothed and more so being treated like a weakling, like a human child, that made him grit his teeth. But he bore with it because he really _did _need to get clean and it appeared that his illness and wounds were going to make that impossible for him to do alone.

When she was done, she stepped back, washed her hands at the sink, and said, "Wait here. You need new clothes. I'll wash your old ones. I'll be right back." She was gone for a few minutes and then she returned, leaving a folded stack of clothes on the toilet lid. "My brother's clothes," she explained. "He used to sometimes stay with me until he got a job in California." Something funny flashed across her face then but it was gone before he could catch what it was. She paused. "Sorry if they're too big… Okay, I'll throw your old clothes in the wash. Here, wait…" She hurried over to him and helped him stand, handing him a towel, her eyes never leaving his face. She gathered up his disgusting old clothes and left, shutting the door behind her.

He dressed slowly, wincing. She was right—the clothes were large on him. He was a relatively large man, well-built due to the injections HYDRA had given him and constant training, but her brother must have been simply enormous, because the flannel shirt she had given him hung off him like he was a scarecrow. Or perhaps he had gotten thinner in the last few weeks? He looked at himself in the mirror, brushing his long brown hair back from his face. His face was extremely stubbly and he looked clean but he still looked pale and gaunt. There were dark shadows under his eyes and he _did _look a bit thinner, though not much. Another perk of being a superhuman—it probably took double or triple the amount of time to starve himself and make himself weak from poor eating and sleeping habits. He wondered if Steve was the same way; he had looked like a robust, healthy man, though not when he'd been covered in blood after the Winter Soldier had given him a beating on the helicarrier…

_"I'm with you till the end of the line."_

He bent over the sink, wincing at the sharp pain in his head. For some reason, thinking about that phrase—and thinking about Steve—physically hurt. A fuzzy image floated to his mind, looking at Steve…except Steve was _shorter_…why was he shorter…?

A knock at the door startled him so badly he knocked over the toothbrush mug, though this time he caught it before it shattered. "You done?" called Ari.

"Yes," he said, exiting.

She stepped back and looked at him. "Yep. Too big. Oh well, you're clean now. Okay…" Her voice trailed off as she surveyed him. "I realize you're tired and ill…but you've eaten and bathed now. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

He was instantly on his guard, looking at her suspiciously. "Why?"

"I think you may have some form of amnesia," she said gently. "I'm not sure if I can help—but I can try. I'd have to start with collecting some information first."

"Why did you say I was 'obviously hiding from someone'?" he asked suddenly, ignoring her request. He had just remembered this and it alarmed him; he'd never said anything about being on the run from HYDRA or SHIELD or Captain America. How did she know? Did she work for someone?

"An educated guess," she said. Seeing the terrifying expression on his face at her response, she said, "Okay, how about this. You answer my questions and then I answer yours. Deal?"

"Deal," he said gruffly. He followed her to the family room, where she gestured for him to sit down. The whole room was rather floral and made him feel somewhat sick. He'd never been around so much lavender and sky blue and floral print in his life. It felt so feminine and delicate, like he'd destroy something just by touching it. She owned a _lot _of odd glass figurines for someone so young.

She sat on a sofa across from him and pulled out a notebook and a pen.

"No recording," he snapped.

"But…how will I remember your information to help you?" she asked, staring at him.

"Fine," he conceded, "but _I_ keep the papers."

"That works," she said. "Okay…" She tapped the pen against her teeth while staring blankly at her notebook for a moment. Then she looked up. "What's your name?"

"I don't know," he said.

"You have no memory of a given name _or _a nickname?" she asked.

He hesitated, wondering whether he should tell her—but why not, at this point? He desperately wanted to know who he was and she was his best chance, since he didn't know how to get his hands on HYDRA's files. So he said, "There was this…man. I don't know who he was. He said he knew me. He said my name was…" _"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes!" _Steve Rogers' voice seemed to echo in the room. "…James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky, for short."

"Okay," said Ari. "Do you feel like you know this person? James…or Bucky? Would you like to go by that?"

"No," he said immediately. The name unnerved him. He felt like he had some sort of connection to it—but it was so blurry and confusing and it felt painful to think about it. "I go by the Winter Soldier."

She looked up slowly and he sensed something wary in her gaze. "Would you like me to call you that? Or…"

"You can call me Soldier, I guess," he said.

She went on asking him questions. First very basic ones—what foods did he like? Colors? Books? Movies? His answers to all of them were "I don't know" because he truly _didn't _know. Or "I don't have one." HYDRA hadn't allowed him much downtime.

Then she asked him, "What do you do for a career or a job? Are you a…soldier?"

"I'm an assassin," he said bluntly and then gauged her reaction. She did look momentarily surprised for a moment—and then she very carefully asked, "Do you have a current target or someone you're planning on hurting?"

"No," he said.

"Okay." She looked relieved. "Sorry—it's just that if you had plans to hurt yourself or someone, I'd be obligated by law to report you to the police. Although…would Duty to Warn still apply since he's not an admitted patient…?" she murmured to herself, lost in thought for a moment. Then she shook herself and asked, "You're clearly suffering from some sort of amnesia. What I'm trying to figure out is what kind, or if some sort of trauma caused it. Once we know the cause, we can work from there."

"I know the cause," he said. "My…agency wiped my memories."

She stared at him. "I beg your pardon? You mean…they hypnotized you to forget your memories?" She seemed uneasy now.

"No, I mean they sat me down in a chair and used a device and serums to _wipe _them from my mind," he growled.

"Have you had any flashbacks to any memories?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Do these have any side effects?" she asked.

"Yes," he admitted. "They make the pain worse. In my head. And stomach."

"Okay," she said. "That means that they _didn't _actually completely 'wipe' your memory." She held up air quotes around the word "wipe". "They did, in a way, hypnotize you—though I'm sure it was more powerful and painful than that. But the memories _are _there still underneath."

When he stared at her, she smiled and prompted, "That's a good thing, Soldier. That means your memories can be recovered. You can find out who you were before."

He clenched his cybernetic arm and she noticed the movement. She cleared her throat and for the first time looked a bit embarrassed. "About your…"

"Cybernetic arm," he said dully. "Works like a regular arm except stronger."

"Right," she said, staring at it with abject fascination. "And…did your agency give this to you?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember what happened to your old arm?"

A suddenly flashback—

_He was laying in something cold and wet…snow? And everything hurt, hurt like hell… His arm was burning, as if it was on fire, and he could feel something warm and wet all over his side…and the pain, the pain was so intense… It felt like some beast had ripped his arm off in its mouth…_

"Soldier!" Ari was suddenly crouching near him as he bent over, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, letting out a groan of pain as it felt like someone had shoved a white-hot knife into his head. "Soldier," she repeated, rubbing circles on his back. He felt so sick that he didn't even shove her away though he desperately wanted to. She must have sensed his wishes because she backed off slightly and said, "It's okay, you don't have to try and remember anything anym—"

"I WANT TO!" The words burst out of him and he sat up, blinking away the pain furiously. "Keep. Asking. Questions." He wouldn't let this pain conquer him.

"Okay," she said warily, returning to her seat. "Are you…sure?"

"Yes," he spat out, furious with himself for being so damn weak. What kind of "super soldier" was he if he couldn't even handle this much pain?

"Okay," she said. "Can you remember your first memory…from _this _life? As Soldier?"

He thought about it for a moment. HYDRA obviously wiped his mind after every mission and stuck him back in that suffocating ice…but they only erased the shallow details from his mind, little things that might have made him have more of an independent personality. He still got to retain his memories of being the Winter Soldier, of being an assassin, of his kills. He still obviously got to regain his physical memory that remembered his learned and trained motor movements.

"The assassination of Kennedy, I think," he finally said.

In all this time, Ari hadn't lost her cool once and he had admired her for that. But _now _she looked up, her eyes wide, and swallowed. "Wait—excuse me—_what_?" she demanded. "The assassination of _Kennedy_?"

"I've been around for years," he said. "Frozen in ice."

"Like Captain America," she said faintly.

He looked at her sharply. "You know about…him?"

"Well, yeah, he's an Avenger," she said. "The whole world knows about him."

The Winter Soldier didn't know what an Avenger was. She looked at him and faintly asked, "And…and Kennedy…was that…was that…"

"My work," he said.

She sat there, her expression stunned. She was sitting in a room with someone who had pulled off one of the most famous murders in history. And it didn't seem like it was sitting too well with her. She rubber her temples and whispered, "Well then…" She slumped back into her sofa, apparently at a loss for words. "I don't know what else to say right now."

"My turn to ask the questions," he reminded her.

She still seemed shell-shocked at the knowledge that he was more than quadruple her age (technically, though he had remained frozen somewhere in his early twenties, he didn't know when) but she sat up, upholding her end of the deal.

"How do you…" He gestured to the room vaguely. "How are you so calm…this isn't bothering you?"

She actually laughed at that, looking relieved that the conversation had taken a normal turn. "Soldier, I'm a nurse."

Nurse. _Nurse_. _He was sitting on a cot, a springy dirty cot, grinning up at a nurse who was frowning at him. He had gotten some sort of injury and was teasing her. She wore a white dress and cap. She was pretty, long golden curls that she had pinned up and a disapproving smile. _And then the memory was over as quickly as it had begun, flashing in his mind. Ari noticed the change in his expression, the pained way he winced and clutched his stomach, which was roiling again, and asked, "Memory? But what triggered it?"

"The word 'nurse'," he said.

"What was the memory?" she asked. "If you don't mind me asking."

He looked at Ari. She was a nurse. The memory didn't make much sense to him—but he still felt somewhat awkward telling Ari about it. "I do mind," he said curtly.

"Okay." She held up her hands in defeat. "Back to the question… I'm a nurse, I got my degree last year. I'm twenty-three, if you're wondering. I work in a hospital. That's how I knew how to assess you, how to bathe you—" She grinned apologetically at his ugly expression. "Yeah, awkward for you, isn't it? But trust me, it's nothing I haven't seen before."

The Winter Soldier had the sudden urge to kick something or punch a hole through the wall. Anything to make _this _conversation go the hell away. So then he asked, "Why did you think I'm hiding from someone?"

She pursed her lips together. "Well…it was just a guess. But…you look like you've been through a war," she said, nodding at his bruises and scrapes. "And…well, all the news has been talking about is what went down in D.C., and how some 'suspects' were still missing. Not that I'm saying you're a suspect…or maybe you _are_," she added under her breath, thought the Winter Soldier didn't think she knew he could hear her, "…but I kind of put two-and-two together. You seemed like you were hiding, or on the run."

"So why did you decided to help me?" he asked. He couldn't comprehend why any sane person would want to help him at this point.

"Well, at first I thought you had a mental illness," she said. "You looked…well, you looked homeless, and mental illnesses are highly prevalent among the homeless and medically-underserved. Unfortunately. And I couldn't just _leave _you; I was going to take you to a shelter. But then you just seemed like you had amnesia. And _then _I realized you were physically sick. I thought about driving you to my hospital, but you seemed so tense and antsy, like you might run away if I took you somewhere public."

So she had noticed, in the car. She was more observant than he'd realized. Humans generally weren't this observant.

"And, as a nurse, I've sworn an oath to protect people and help them heal," she said. "So I couldn't just leave you by the side of the road to die."

"I've just told you I'm an assassin," he pointed out, "and you think I'm on the run. You weren't afraid?"

Her smile faltered a bit and she cleared her throat, looking him dead in the eyes, and slowly said, "And who said I wasn't afraid?"

A heavy silence settled between them then, unspoken words hovering in the air. What now? What did either of them do now? She knew too much about him. The Winter Soldier had been considered a ghost in the world of espionage for so long, and now she knew things about him and she was interacting with him. This made him feel incredibly uneasy and his instincts kept whispering in his ear, urging him to kill her and be done with it. It would have been so easy, too. A million ways to do. A slit throat. Strangled. Or—if he wanted to be less violent—smothering her with her pillow. She looked an average 120-pound young woman. It would be so easy.

And yet—she'd helped him. She hadn't shown any horror or disgust towards him. Sometimes a HYDRA scientist would come to his room to assess his mental state and they'd tell him that it was imperative he stay out of the public view, not only because he had to stay covert, but also because regular humans would think he was disgusting and strange and dangerous. "You would never be accepted," they said, "because you're just a soldier. People fear those that can kill them. Know your place, Soldier." And he had accepted it because it was true.

But was it really? Captain America was a superhuman too. Yet people liked him. True, he fought for the opposite side…but no one had seemed disgusted by him. He'd even had an exhibit in a museum dedicated to him. An exhibit that also talked about a man named James Buchanan Barnes…Steve Rogers' best friend…a man who looked just like him…

He covered his face with his hands. Everything about Steve's story matched up—but at the same time it didn't. How could he be both the Winter Soldier _and _James Buchanan Barnes? How could he be two people while also not being either of them? He was the Winter Soldier, but he wasn't, because now he was lost. He was James Buchanan Barnes, but he wasn't, because he didn't know who James Buchanan Barnes was. Steve recognized him, the museum exhibit told the same story that Steve did…

It was hard to accept something that made no sense. He had flashbacks of being someone else—but they blurred in with the memories of all the times he'd been taken out of the ice. What had happened to him? How had he turned from that smiling man into _this _creature? Who was that man who'd laughed with Steve in that video? He was young, full of life, handsome. He had the Winter Soldier's face but the Winter Soldier was dirtier, rougher, more angry.

As for Ari…she had a choice now too. She knew who he was, what he could do. She had helped him but she wasn't obligated to help him any further. It only put her safety in danger. She could easily tell him to leave now.

But she didn't. She stood up and said, "I'm working the night shift at the hospital. Do you think you can manage yourself while I'm gone?"

He looked up from his hands and hoarsely asked, "You're letting me stay?"

"Hell yes," she said. "It's obvious your previous…_agency_"—the word lingered distastefully on her mouth—"has done a number on you. They've erased your memories but in the most damaging and harmful way. You also have some obvious cognitive issues _and _you're physically sick. And I'm no expert on memory and amnesia—but I'm going to help you get your memories back. You may never feel like James Buchanan Barnes…but knowing who he was is something you _need_, if you ever want to progress."

"How can _you _help me?" he asked.

She grimaced, a tight smile that had a clear bitter edge. "Trust me. I have my ways. To start off…I'm going to call my brother." From her expression, it was clear that this idea was extremely unpleasant to her—but there was a determined look in her eye that made the Winter Soldier feel like nothing in the world could stop her now. So he let her change into her scrubs and walk out the door. And he stayed in the house while she worked. He could have easily left…but he stayed.

And that was the first step.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next few days, Ari learned some things about the Winter Soldier. For one thing, he rarely spoke. The cliché "man of few words" existed but the Winter Soldier took this to new levels. It wasn't just that he didn't speak much…it was that he had absolutely nothing to say. He'd never engaged in chit-chat or any type of aimless conversation back at HYDRA. He said "Yes," and "No" and "Target acquired" and "Target terminated" and a few other phrases, but that was the extent of his conversation. The talking he had done with Ari had been the most he remembered ever speaking with anyone—and even that was minimal talking, by normal human standards.

For another thing, his body seemed completely out of control and this was worrying to him. HYDRA had monitored everything about his existence: his dietary needs, how much sleep he got, monitoring his vital signs, the levels of fluids and neurotransmitters in his body… They'd basically controlled every single thing. When he wasn't frozen in the ice in a cryo-cell, he'd been hooked up to machines for different testing and training. He'd slept on a cot with machines constantly hooked to his human arm. He'd trained in a private gym with all sorts of sensors attached to him, to test which ability he was lacking in. Slowly, serum by serum, piece by piece, they had built the perfect human. He got basic illnesses but he fought them off almost instantaneously. He never got severely ill. He never aged. He never had to deal with troublesome human emotions like guilt or love. He was physically superior.

But now that he wasn't at HYDRA anymore…it felt like he was unraveling. He was still a superhuman, and he always would be—but he wasn't being monitored anymore. He slept without machines hooked up to him. He and Ari both quickly realized that he needed as much carbs as an Olympic gold medalist swimmer and she'd had to run out and buy more food than she'd ever bought before in her life. He didn't have machines to monitor his vitals, so the first time his blood sugar had dropped to a dangerous low, he hadn't understood what was happening and had _almost _punched a hole through a wall (but Ari had stopped him). Now Ari monitored his vitals.

She'd called her mysterious brother but she'd been told that it would be a few days before he got back to her. She'd set her phone down with an ugly expression and had muttered, "I'm going for a walk. I'll be back," and the Winter Soldier had watched her go. Clearly something about this brother bothered her very much. He couldn't quite figure out what it was, but he decided to ask.

"What's wrong with your brother?" he asked that night, as they sat at the kitchen table and Ari assessed him like she did every night. She assessed his vitals and she did routine checks of his systems. Right now she was in the middle of checking his eyes' reaction to light and accommodation.

She froze and then slowly said, "There's nothing wrong…"

"He makes you angry," stated the Winter Soldier. This wasn't a question. He wasn't going to let her evade him. She'd asked all sorts of questions about him, now he was going to ask questions about her. It might be useful later if he ever needed to eliminate Ari.

Ari sighed. "It's a boring story that isn't… You don't need to hear this."

The Winter Soldier tried to gather his face into an expression that looked touchingly curious. It was _true_; he didn't need to hear this. But he wanted to, though not out of personal curiosity. But if he told Ari, "I'm gathering information on you in case I ever need to take you out," he had a feeling she'd react unfavorably. So he tried to act interested. This was what normal people did, right? They were interested in other peoples' lives. "I want to know."

She cut him a somewhat suspicious glance, clearly not buying his terrible false sincerity, and said, "You're the worst actor I've ever known. Don't assassins usually have to be _good _actors, so they can, like, schmooze their way into high-profile parties to get to their targets?"

"I'm not—I wasn't _that _kind," he said slowly. "I was the…heavy hitter." He had been the last resort, the one they used when their needs were urgent or it was going to be a very high-profile kill.

She sighed. "Okay. Whatever. I guess I'll tell you. My brother…is a loser. Actually, he's a _huge _loser, alright? Growing up, we didn't have a lot of money and my parents wanted us to become doctors or lawyers or something. I was the good kid, I followed their requests. I became a nurse. I mean, I _like _being a nurse, but it also pays well and it's a respectable profession. Anyway…" She scowled. "Alex wasn't like me. He was really into computers. My parents tried to get him into programming or something—but he was into hacking. And tracking. Which is illegal."

The Winter Soldier felt that it probably wasn't a good time to let Ari know that he'd done his fair share of hacking into systems as well. And his missions usually ended up with one less person breathing on Earth.

She took a deep breath. "Anyway…as if him hacking wasn't bad enough—and it was, trust me, it got him into all sorts of trouble which caused so much stress for my parents—he didn't care about school, he didn't care about his grades, he hung out with the wrong crowd… He got arrested a _bunch _of times for the stupidest stuff. And this was so hard on my parents. They were really nice, gentle people. And Alex caused them _so _much stress. They both already had health issues and he was so…he's so selfish that he didn't give a crap." She clenched her penlight in her hand so hard he thought she might crush it. "And then—get this—after _years _of us begging for him to get his life back on track or finally leave us in peace once and for all and move out or something…after _years _of him being lazy and selfish and tormenting my parents…and making _my _life miserable…he got a job working for some high-end, super-expensive compute company in California! They're very modern and trendy, they only hire young hipster geniuses." She rolled her eyes. "And Alex got hired by them after he tried _hacking into their system_. And he got in, too. And what does he get? Jail time? NO. He got a freaking job!"

She took a deep shuddering breath, her face flushed with anger, and the Winter Soldier waited. There was clearly more on the way. This was actually vaguely interesting to him, the way a fly might be interesting to a cat. Humans were so mundane…but more complex than he'd thought. All of this drama sounded a bit weak to him—what was having a stressful brother compared to being shot at?—but then again, he'd never had a family (that he recalled anyway), so these tedious and troublesome human connections and family ties fascinated him in an odd way.

"My parents died a year later," she said bitterly. "Both from heart problems. They were elderly, I admit, and they already had heart problems and hypertension—it runs in our family on both sides—but the stress that Alex gave them drove them to early deaths. It's pretty clear. So basically, my a-hole brother basically kills our parents, wastes his life, commits crimes, and then gets rewarded for it by getting a high-profile, high-paying job in one of the nicest states in the country. Meanwhile _I_ get to live in the house that my dead parents owned. He didn't even come to the funeral," she added bitterly.

Now the Winter Soldier understood why the house seemed so old-fashioned. She hadn't decorated it, presumably her dead mother had. He also didn't know what to say in response to her story. A normal person would have comforted her, but he wasn't a normal person. He finally settled upon the eloquent, "That sucks."

She looked at him, startled, and then let out a short laugh. "You're right. It does suck. Still, I like my life. I just hate Alex. A lot." She grimaced. "But we're going to need his help. Alex is an amazing hacker and he can trace people and basically do a lot of computer tech-y stuff that I'm hopeless with. If we need to look up information on you, Alex is the one who can help us."

"We need to find my files," the Winter Soldier said. "From HYDRA." He'd finally told her the name of his organization; what did it matter, at this point? He still wasn't sure if Ari would survive knowing him—she might die, or he might have to kill her, at any point—but he was positive by now that she wasn't going to out him online or to the authorities.

"Alex can help with that," she said. She paused and then she said in a rush, "Okay, so let me get this straight…HYDRA is an organization that is responsible for almost all of the world's instability since World War I?"

"Since even before that," he said.

"And they infiltrated an organization called SHIELD…which is—or was, I guess—an organization that was basically the good guys."

"What makes them good?" he asked bluntly. "We all killed."

"Yeah, but HYDRA started genocides," she said. "I think that makes them the bad guys."

The Winter Soldier shrugged. He didn't have much of an idea of "bad" or "good." It had always come down to "obedience" and "disobedience" for him.

"God." Ari rubbed her temples. "How could all these random secret organizations exist while the whole world goes on without knowing about them?"

"That's why they're secret," he pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Soldier, I get that. Anyway…according to you, Captain America was fighting for SHIELD? That means the rest of the Avengers must be fighting for SHIELD as well." She had explained to him what the Avengers were, since they were quite recent to the world: a rag-tag team of superheroes who had saved New York two years ago when an alien prince had tried to take over the world with an alien army. Comprised of an Norse god of thunder, a billionaire with a metal suit, a brilliant scientist who was genetically mutated in some ways, and two spies who were ordinary humans but more skilled than an ordinary human.

Captain America was a constant source of confusion for the Winter Soldier. A superhuman, a superhero, a good guy. Working for the opposite side. And yet he and the Winter Soldier had been best friends. He had been the only person that the Winter Soldier had been unable to kill. As kind as Ari was, if he had to kill her, he knew he'd easily be able to. But something about looking into Steve's bloodied face had felt so wrong. Something about killing him felt so wrong. It felt like turning on someone. So he had done what he'd never done before and he'd let Steve go. But he still wondered about him every day. He'd finally ended up telling Ari that the Steve who told him his name was James Buchanan Barnes was the one and only Captain America and she had gaped at him.

"But that—that means you were best friends with Captain America!" she had said. She leaped to her feet and began to pace. "This actually all makes sense! Both of you were frozen in time…from the same time period…and you clearly had some sort of response to him. Your subconscious was telling you that you knew him. See? Your memories are stronger than you think, Soldier! Reading HYDRA's files on you should only strengthen them! And then…then if we can get you to talk to Captain America…" She gave him a shifty look.

"No," he said forcefully. "Not right now." Maybe eventually, but right now the thought of talking to Steve made him feel anxious and physically ill and confused. And angry. Extremely angry. Steve had been his target and the Winter Soldier had failed to terminate him and decades of learning how to be obedient contributed to him feeling like a total failure by letting Steve go.

Finally, Ari's brother called back. She had turned her back on the Winter Soldier while she talked, hiding her expression, but he could see how her muscles stiffened and how tense she was. Her words were short, terse, to the point. At one point she'd gone outside and shouted for a few minutes. But finally, after an hour-long conversation that seemed mostly snappy, she'd come inside looking relieved. "Alex says he's on his way. He wants to meet you first and then he'll help us."

The Winter Soldier was _immediately _on his guard, suspicious to a fault. "Why?" he demanded. "What did you tell him about who I was?" Did he need to disappear?

It was a good thing Ari was a nurse, because she was very in-tune to how she was supposed to behave when he got into a certain mood. She had been tempted to joke, "At ease, Soldier," but her quick eyes took in his rapid breathing, slight twitchiness of his fingers, eyes that were darting around the room more quickly than they normally did (she had finally figured out that he was constantly assessing escape and attack routes) and she seemed to realize that he was very on-edge. "Nothing," she reassured him. "I told him a friend needed his help."

"He agreed just like that?" he asked. He had assumed this Alex person might refuse Ari, since they were on bad terms. (If he had, the Winter Soldier had secretly been planning to make his way to California and hold this Alex figure at gunpoint until he tracked down HYDRA for him.)

"We made a slight deal," she admitted, "but it's nothing you need to worry about."

The Winter Soldier frowned at her. She shook her head, smiling, telling him silently _Don't even bother_.

"What day does he arrive?" he asked.

"Today," said Ari. "He's getting on the first flight he can. Perks of working at a company like his—they allow their employees a lot of freedom as long as they keep churning out brilliant products. Speaking of work…" She checked the time on her iPhone. "I need to go to work. I'm covering a short shift for another nurse. Stay here, okay? Alex won't arrive till I get back, so don't worry about meeting him alone."

Ari headed off to work and the Winter Soldier decided to go out for the first time since he'd been with Ari (which had been approximately one full week). She'd told him not to ("The neighbors will be annoying about it," was her reason, though he suspected she was more worried he might run away or harm someone) but he didn't particularly care what she'd said. He was getting more used to not having constant orders barked at him, and orders thrown at him from someone half his size who had no control over his mind were even easier to ignore. This newfound independence was terrifying but also enticing.

Ari had gone out shopping for clothes that would properly fit him. She'd bought them in all black. When he'd questioned why with a raised eyebrow, she'd shrugged and said, "I think you'd look cool in black. It suits you, you know? I just can't really picture you in everyday clothes."

So now he knew he looked "cool" in black.

He shrugged on a pair of black jeans, his black combat boots, and a black t-shirt. He shrugged on a black hoodie on top of that. Looking at himself in the mirror, he realized he looked a bit…well, terrifying. And extremely out-of-place in a small town. He'd have to tell Ari to buy him some clothes with color. He pulled on his black gloves. They made him look like a robber or a serial killer but he couldn't help that. It was better than flashing his cybernetic hand to the public. Then he left.

Ari's little suburb was quiet and peaceful, mostly full of elderly people or families with kids. It didn't seem like a place where anything bad could ever happen. She worked at a hospital at the other end of town, twenty minutes from her home, a small-town hospital where "nothing ever happens" was how she put it.

Physically, he was healing better than ever. He could barely feel his old wounds anymore and the nausea and blinding headaches only came when memories from his first life resurfaced. And resurface they did. Almost every day he received some sort of snippet or flash of a memory and he was slowly piecing them together, though the memories were so short and random that nothing made sense. He was at the beach in one, sand in his toes. He was staring at a chalkboard in another. In yet another, he was stroking someone's hair, someone's long wavy red hair. Looking up at a kite. Feeling his fist connect with someone's face and saying, "Watch it!"

Little things like that. Sometimes his memories were slightly longer, like the nurse one, but that was rare.

He walked down the street, feeling out of place and self-conscious. He swore he saw several curtains twitch. Were people looking at him? He scowled. He itched for the urge to _give _someone something to look at him for. And it involved beating someone to a pulp. He hadn't engaged in combat for a while and his muscles were aching to beat someone senseless.

Would Bucky Barnes do that?

He rubbed his eyes and kept walking, looking around. Several kids played on their driveways, giving him curious glances as he walked by. They were used to everyone in this neighborhood and he stuck out like a sore, bruised thumb. He rounded the bend and kept walking. Up ahead, a little girl who looked like she was five or six, with long dark black hair and light brown skin, looked up when he came around the corner and her eyes widened. She wore a strange silver helmet on her head (if it could even be called that, since the Winter Soldier suspected it was nothing more than some Styrofoam with tinfoil plastered onto it, taped together to death) with silver wings on either side of the helmet. She also wore two rectangular pieces of Styrofoam covered in tinfoil taped to both sides of her chest and she held a plastic hammer in her hand. A red sheet was taped to her shoulders, dragging on the driveway behind her, like some sort of cape. The overall effect was mystifying, if a bit laughable, and the Winter Soldier was a little confused. Not that he'd ever thought about it, but didn't little girls usually wear dresses and sparkly things? What was she supposed to be, anyway?

He expected her to ignore him like all the other kids he'd passed but she marched right up to him as he walked past her driveway and said, "Hey!"

He stopped and turned to look at her. He pointed at himself as if to say, _Me_?

"Are you a ninja?" she asked in all seriousness.

He was instantly on high alert. Why would she ask—

Oh. He was wearing all black. And she was a child.

He was about to briskly say, "No," and walk away, but something about the childish hope in her eyes stopped him. Her entire existence would be made if he said yes. And he was a type of ninja…right? (Not really. Not at all, actually, but the rationalization worked at the moment.)

So he said, "Yes."

Her eyes widened and she moved towards him. He uneasily moved back, alarmed. What was she doing? Why was she coming towards him? She stopped hesitantly and then asked, "Can I hug you?"

Alarmed, he backed away and said, "No, don't do that."

"_Please_?" she asked, clasping her hands together. Hadn't this child ever been taught to not talk to strangers? And especially not to solicit hugs from strangers?

"No," he said, backing up so quickly he stumbled. Then he turned and quickly hurried back towards Ari's home, his heartbeat accelerated. Amazing. Decades of doing dangerous missions and fighting in life-and-death combat and what truly terrified him? A child trying to hug him. He would have said yes except he didn't understand children at all. Small, squirmy things that were always getting in the way. HYDRA never cared if innocents died on his jobs (though they had told him to try and avoid civilian casualties, to avoid drawing attention to him), and generally he was pretty good at avoiding civilian casualties. However, those times had come when he had needed to harm civilians. He'd done it, but he'd always tried to stay away from children. Something about killing them felt…odd. They were so small. It was kind of like killing a small animal. He couldn't comprehend why anyone would do that, unless they had a serious reason to. Wouldn't it be easier to just brush it away?

When he arrived back at the house, he blinked. When had it gotten to be twilight? Streetlights were coming on and he hurried inside the house. The door was unlocked and the house smelled like cheese. Ari was in the kitchen when he walked in and she gave him a somewhat disapproving look. "I see you went out."

"Yes."

"When I told you not to."

"Yes."

"You know, I had my _reasons _in telling you not to go out," she said. "I'm not just a killjoy. You're not stable enough to—"

"I had to get out," he cut her off. "Okay?"

She looked like she wanted to argue but she bit her lip and then she smoothed her expression over. "Okay, what's done is done," she said. "Did anything happen while you were out?"

He sat down at the table and looked down at his lap, pulling off a glove and idly playing with it. "A little kid tried to hug me."

"What?!" Ari had been bending over to pull something out of the oven, her hand outstretched. She whipped her head to look at him—and then she yanked her hand back from the oven, hissing, "Ouch!"

"Did you burn yourself?" he asked.

She hurried over to the sink and quickly ran ice water over it, wincing. "It's nothing. Tell me what you said. A little kid tried to hug you?"

"A little girl," he said. "She looked like a…a robot." He frowned. "She wore this stupid helmet with wings and silver armor and a red cape."

Ari grinned. "Did she, by any chance, have a hammer with her?" She pulled on oven mitts and slowly slid the tray out of the oven, setting it on the table and waving at the heat with her hands. It looked like some sort of casserole with browned cheese bubbling on top, sliced green onions scattered across the top. The Winter Solder's stomach grumbled and he looked up and asked, "Yeah. How did you know that?"

Ari laughed. "She was dressed as Thor. One of the Avengers. He's the Norse God of Thunder. Big guy, pretty touch. Even you'd be no match for him."

The Winter Soldier wasn't so sure about that but he didn't say that to Ari. She set plates in front of them and they both served themselves. For a few minutes they didn't speak, only ate. The Winter Soldier observed Ari while she observed him. She looked a bit tense, a little anxious, and he thought it was sort of interesting how they were both obviously assessing each other blatantly. She as a nurse, he as…someone who needed to have information about people and places.

Suddenly she asked in alarm, "Wait, you didn't hug her, did you?"

"No!" he said, taken back.

"Good." She looked visibly relieved. "Sorry, it's just that…if her parents or someone had seen…they'd have probably called the police and reported you as a pedophile or something. And then I'd be harboring a fugitive. Although I may already be," she added pointedly, looking at him with sharp eyes. "Are you ever going to explain your role in what happened in D.C.?"

"No."

"Soldier!" she said, frustrated. "I can't help you if I don't know the story!"

"There's no story," he said honestly. "I had a mission. Terminate Captain America, the director of SHIELD, and Black Widow. There were setbacks. Things exploded. End of story."

"And somehow this ended with Captain America alive and in the hospital," said Ari doubtfully (this had been on the news), "and you wandering in North Carolina."

"Like I said—setbacks."

She chewed the inside of her cheek and her eyes darted to the clock. Her fingers tapped out a frantic, senseless tune on her thighs and he thought her breathing looked a little different. "My brother will be here soon," she burst out. "And he's really…"

"An a-hole," said the Winter Soldier, repeating Ari's words. "I remember."

She cracked a small smile at that, fiddling with her gold necklace. "Yeah, he's that…but he's also just really annoying, okay? He's going to make jokes about you…your looks and stuff like that." Seeing the Winter Soldier's mystified expression, she explained, "My brother doesn't look like a typical geek. You know, all skinny and greasy-haired and gross." A second later she covered her face in her hands. "I'm sorry. That was so rude and stereotypical of me. What I _mean _is…my brother is handsome in a conventional, football-player sort of way. He gets a lot of girls." Her mouth twisted with slight disgust. "So he thinks he has the right to comment on _everyone's_ appearances and love life. Or lack thereof."

If he commented on the Winter Soldier's appearance, the Winter Soldier was half sure that he would strangle Alex. As for a "love life"…well, there was no such thing. The Winter Soldier didn't feel emotions like that; he'd never been allowed to, never had the chance to, never even given those emotions a second thought. From the few memories of being James Buchanan Barnes that had returned, it sort of seemed as if Bucky Barnes had been a ladies' man. The Winter Soldier couldn't be more different. He was more likely to throw a lady off a rooftop than he was to date her. (And he had thrown ladies off of rooftops. Romania, 1976. A rather unfortunate event for her, but HYDRA had been getting a bit desperate and they needed her to vanish pronto.)

"I'll be fine," he told her.

"You sure? You won't stab him or anything?" A slow smile crossed her face. "Because I wouldn't stop you…if you wanted to do your assassin thing…just kidding," she said quickly, as if afraid he might take her seriously, but he knew she was joking.

Joking. Another thing foreign to him. Had there been _nothing _HYDRA hadn't stolen from him? He was more robot and less human. He was like that little girl, except he wasn't pretending to be a robot or an alien. He actually was one. The thought was depressing and a little bit eerie.

Ari was clearly very keyed up over her brother's arrival. She largely ignored the Winter Soldier and even forget to assess him physically. She kept tidying up things that were already clean and muttering under her breath and clenching her fists. The Winter Soldier couldn't tell if she wanted to impress her brother or murder him. A part of him privately thought she was a little jealous of her brother. From what she said of him, he made lots of money, lived comfortably, was good-looking, and "got lots of girls." Ari made decent money and she was reasonably decent-looking (though the Winter Soldier wasn't the best grader on this, never having given a thought to peoples' looks before this) but she was clearly stuck in her parents' home and seemed a bit trapped and lonely. After all…she'd taken in a dirty and strange man from the streets. That had to say something about her.

Finally he left the family room because Ari acting anxious was making _him _get anxious, and when he got anxious, he tended to get a little violent. He sat on the bed that was in "his room" and looked around. The room was vomitously pink and floral, with so many glass figurines and flowers that it was almost incredible. The wallpaper was yellow with pale floral print and it was peeling slightly. This house might have been older than _he _was. The thought unnerved him. He might have walked through this house as Bucky Barnes and here he sat, still the same age, decades later. Not normal. Now that he wasn't been frozen in a cryo-cell anymore, he'd start aging…though it would be a very slow process. He would age more slowly than a normal human, he already knew this. So he estimated he had a good 100+ years ahead of him. The thought was dizzying, especially because he knew he would never sleep through a large chunk of it again. He sat there on the bed staring at the wall, lost in empty thought, not noticing that the room was getting darker and darker. His eyesight was fine in the dark so it made no matter. If Ari had poked her head in now, she might have been a little creeped out at how still he sat, still as a statue.

Finally, he heard the doorbell ring and Ari called, "He's here, Soldier!" He stood up, shaking himself off, flexing his cybernetic hand, and headed outside.

"Wait here, in the kitchen," hissed Ari. She headed to the front door and he heard it open and then a man's voice said, "Little sis! Look at you! You look…exactly the same." And then a loud guffaw. He heard Ari sigh and say, "Hello, Alex. Come on in."

A tall, well-built but sort of beefy blonde man strode in, looking around with faux-fascination. "Wow! I love what you've done with the place! It looks so…so 1960's, Ari. You've _gotta _tell me the name of your interior decorater, I—" He finally caught sight of the Winter Soldier, standing there, arms crossed, staring at him with a hard expression. Alex Madden looked shocked for a moment and then a gleeful smile spread across his face. "Oh? What's this? A _guy_? Wow, Ari, moving up the ladder!" He laughed loudly as Ari entered the kitchen, rubbing her temples. She shot the Winter Soldier a _What did I tell you? _look.

"He's just a friend, Alex," she said tiredly. "He's staying here for the moment because he's in a tough situation."

"So, tell me, Ari the Humanitarian!" said Alex, clapping her on the back so hard she winced. "Why've you decided to adopt a new pet? What's his name, Gothic Hobo? What's with all the black? Dude, can you speak?" he asked the Winter Soldier. "Or has she got you on a leash?"

Ari groaned and the Winter Soldier slowly fingered the knife he had looped through his belt, gritting his teeth. He suddenly sympathized deeply with Ari's urge to murder Alex Madden. _No one _insulted him to his face like that and walked away with their head still on their shoulders. Ari shot him a look that said _Control yourself _and the Winter Soldier suppressed a deep sigh, his fingers itching to wrap themselves around Alex Madden's overly large throat and choke him to death. He had a feeling the next few hours would test his patience like no other.


	4. Chapter 4

Ari had been right. Alexian Madden (that was his full name) was one of the most obnoxious people the Winter Soldier had ever encountered. And that was saying something, because he'd observed a lot of obnoxious, over-eager, try-hard "macho" agents and soldiers over the years, all trying their hardest to stand in the spotlight and prove themselves. They would harass the younger, newer agents and would act aggressive towards anyone who looked at them "funny." Interestingly enough, they never did seem to bother the Winter Soldier.

It was clear that Ari wanted Alex to immediately start tracking down HYDRA but no, Alex wanted to "sit and catch up." And by that, he meant make fun of Ari and brag about his life and crack obnoxious jokes that made no one laugh except for him. The Winter Soldier had never seen someone so oblivious to the fact that everyone in the room hated them. And the Winter Soldier did hate him, on principle. Alex was the kind of guy he would have liked to blast through a wall.

At one point, he completely zoned out from whatever nonsense Alex was babbling (while Ari sat in the corner, trying her hardest to converse normally with Alex) and began thinking about Steve again. Funny how everything seemed to come back to him—but had it not been for Steve, for Captain America, the Winter Soldier might never have realized that he used to be someone else. He would still be working for HYDRA, still be a killer, still be a robot inside. He still felt half-robot, but he was regaining his human side, a little bit. That much was evident. He would never have spent ten seconds with someone as human as Ari before he'd run into Steve Rogers.

_He was grinning down at Steve, who was…runty. No other way to describe it. His grin was half-amused and half-exasperated. "Are you ever going to stop starting fights with people three times bigger than you?"_

_ "Nope," said Steve as cheerfully as he could with a split lip._

_ He held his hand out and Steve grabbed it and he hauled him to his feet. It was easy. Steve was light, small. He shook his head at how ridiculous Steve looked, covered in dirt with a black eye and a split lip, grinning like the idiot he was. "You have a death wish, you know that, kid?"_

The Winter Soldier groaned and pressed his fingers to his temples. The memory had been clear, clearer than most. The familiar throbbing was back in his head. He was getting used to the pain but the pain wasn't getting much better. His stomach churned as well.

"What's wrong, homeboy?" asked Alex. "You sick or something? Ari here is a nurse. She can fix you right up."

"I know that," said the Winter Soldier through gritted teeth.

"She can wear a nurse costume too, if you wa—"

"ALEX!" Ari shouted, looking extremely angry now. "You're crossing a line. Why can't you ever control yourself?"

Alex looked amused and the Winter Soldier scowled. This human being was so infuriating it was almost astonishing. As it turned out, the Winter Soldier _didn't _require someone to be shooting at him to want to rip them apart limb from limb. Everything that came out of Alex's mouth was insulting, rude, and overbearing.

"What?" asked Alex innocently. "Dude here looks like—well, you look like a tortured hobo," he said apologetically to the Winter Soldier. "And Ari tells me your name is Soldier? Yeah, sorry, but you look like you could be in a 90's metal band. How did you find Ari, anyway? She does this sometimes, has she told you that? Takes in stray weirdos like they're pets or something. Are you her new pet?" Alex Madden laughed.

He would regret it.

The Winter Soldier had had enough. In two seconds, he was on his feet, across the room, pulling his fist back—and then it slammed into Alex's faces so hard Alex's head smashed into the wall behind the sofa. The Winter Soldier took a step back, angrily evaluating the scene. Alex looked up, blinking, disoriented for a moment. Blood was dripping from his nose and Ari looked absolutely dumbfounded in the corner.

"Soldier," she started, but Alex leaped to his feet and launched at the Winter Soldier.

What happened next was fast and ugly. Alex was a large man, larger than the Winter Soldier, in fact, and he had considerable strength, so he managed to get a few solid hits in. But Alex fought like a bear or a bull, all charging straight force with no tactics or maneuvers. The Winter Soldier weaved and ducked around him, punching him in the face, gut, wherever, grabbing him and flipping him over and slamming him to the ground. Alex kicked out the Winter Soldier's legs and yanked him to the ground and then they were rolling on the ground furiously attacking each other. Ari was yelling for them to stop but no one took notice of her. The Winter Soldier felt too…happy. Too in his element. This was what he was good at.

He dragged Alex to his feet and slammed his head into his. Alex staggered back in a daze, blinking blood out of his eyes, and then charged at the Winter Soldier. Somehow, Ari ran up to Alex and grabbed his arm, shouting, "ALEX, STOP!"

Alex…well it was hard to say if he knew what he was doing or not. The Winter Soldier wagered most brothers wouldn't hit their sister, but Alex Madden was also a complete jerk. So when Ari yanked on his arm, he turned and punched her. She staggered back, a look of shock on her face, and fell to her feet.

This was the last straw for the Winter Soldier. Make no mistake about it, if his survival depended on killing Ari—he knew he would kill Ari. But he wouldn't make it painful for her and he would have a good _reason _to kill her. Alex? Alex had no good reason to hit his sister, especially in such a violent way. The Winter Soldier ripped off his glove, flexed his cybernetic arm, and then as Alex froze at the sight of his metal arm, the Winter Soldier slammed Alex in the face so hard he completely sprawled backwards, hitting the floor with a huge thud and then laying there, obviously defeated.

The Winter Soldier turned to Ari but she had already gotten to her feet. She didn't look too bad; her cheek would be badly bruised later but she was alright. She didn't even seem concerned about herself. She kept gaping at Alex and then at the Winter Soldier and then back at Alex and then back at the Winter Soldier. "You can fight," she said faintly. "I…I knew you were an assassin, but I didn't…I didn't know how well you could fight…"

"Now you know," he said. He watched her face closely to see if she was scared, but she looked more stunned than anything. She looked around the room. Several vases had shattered in the fight. Then, suddenly, she had the reaction he would never have suspected: she started laughing. It came in giggles at first and then it became full-blown laughter, the helpless kind that left her bent over, clutching her stomach, laughing so hard she couldn't speak.

"Is something funny?" he asked. Alex groaned on the ground.

"Alex _finally_ got what he deserved," she said between rounds of laughter, her shoulders shaking. "That—was—HILARIOUS! I know…as a nurse…I shouldn't condone fighting…but man," she said, wiping her eyes, grinning. "That was amazing. I have wanted to see Alex get his butt kicked since we were kids. Only he's bigger than most guys, so…"

"Glad to be of service," said the Winter Soldier, somewhat bemused. Once again, Ari's reaction mystified him. Was this girl for real?

Alex got to his feet, groaning and rubbing his jaw, and then Ari fixed them both with a beady glare, suddenly done laughing. "Now," she said firmly, "if the two of you are done in your testosterone-fueled alpha male battle…which Alex lost," she interjected with too much glee to sound gracious, "…then I'd like to begin tracking. We're losing valuable time here."

Alex looked like he was going to argue but Ari snapped, "Clean yourself up and shut the hell up, for _once_, Alex," and she sounded so ferocious that even Alex Madden didn't crack a stupid joke or argue back. He merely disappeared into the bathroom to wash his face. The Winter Soldier looked at his face in the hallway mirror. He didn't look bad at all—no blood. No bruises. Alex was weaker than he'd thought.

Alex reappeared with his face washed and when he saw that the Winter Soldier, he frowned. "I went easy on you, punk," he warned with laughable machismo. "If it were up to me—"

Ari lost it. Her face turned so white it looked like all the blood had drained from it and a look of absolute rage came into her eyes. "Alex. Room. _Now_," she hissed. She grabbed Alex's arm roughly and dragged him into her bedroom, slamming the door shut. The Winter Soldier followed silently and stood at the door, eavesdropping. It was wrong but he didn't care at all. He wanted to know what Ari was saying. His hearing was good enough that he could hear her.

"He—is—my—_patient_!" she was hissing angrily. "He's sick. He needs help and I called you here because I know you can help. But you need to stop antagonizing him because first of all, you absolutely could _not _kick his ass—trust me on this, he could destroy you and I prefer my house to remain standing and not in ruins—and second of all, he has serious issues and you provoking him is only going to make him shut down and regress. He needs help, not someone taunting him every three seconds. So shut the hell up and help us or I'm going to kick you out like I did two years ago and this time I'll _never _call you again. Understand?" Her voice was shaking with rage and the Winter Soldier didn't even have time to move out of the way before she wrenched the door open and marched outside. She looked at him, _knew _he had been eavesdropping, but chose to say, "Come on, Soldier. It's time to figure out where HYDRA is hiding your files."

The Winter Soldier couldn't help but feel extremely odd. Ari was maintaining so much composure, no matter what he did. Refuse to follow her orders, beat up her brother, destroy her belongings, eavesdrop at the door…and still she treated him kindly. Was this a nurse thing? The Winter Soldier had never been around nurses but from what Ari was showing him, they must have a lot of stamina and strength to constantly remain professional around people who were troubling them. It didn't matter that the Winter Soldier hadn't checked into a hospital or clinic; Ari saw him as her patient and she was going to help him, everything else be damned. He suspected there was something underneath her determination that she wasn't quite showing him—some reason why she was so passionate about this—but since he couldn't put his finger on it, he couldn't ask her about it.

Alex was more subdued after that, though he continued to make stupid jokes every now and then and make fun of Ari. The Winter Soldier chalked it up to a truly rotten personality but he controlled himself, for Ari's sake. She was helping him, so he would control himself and not cause any more unnecessary issues for her. However, the Winter Soldier decided privately, if he _ever _ran into Alex Madden outside of Ari's house, he was going to send him blasting into the next galaxy.

Alex sat down at the kitchen table and pulled out a sleek silver laptop that had no logo on it. Ari had approached the table with her Macbook and she frowned when she saw Alex using his own laptop. "Why are we using your laptop?" she asked. "I have one."

Alex scoffed when he saw her Macbook. "You want me to use _that_? First of all, Macbooks are ridiculous. They're pretty and flashy and well-made…for everyday use. I would never use a Macbook if I wanted to hack or track someone. Also, we can be traced if we use your Macbook because you have an IP address and your Macbook is registered in your name. Do something illegal with your laptop and we'll have people on your doorstep in hours. Do you want that?"

It felt like someone had poured ice water down the Winter Soldier's spine. HYDRA could find him that easily. He'd gotten a bit used to not being on his guard while staying here but this was a not-so-friendly reminder that he wasn't ever truly safe…at least not until he figured out who he was…and then destroyed HYDRA.

Because that was his plan. He didn't know when he'd arrived at it, but now that he had, he wasn't going to back down. He was going to destroy the organization which had stolen his life and memories and he would do it even if he died trying. It's not really as if he had anything to really live for anyway, so why not give up his life to break HYDRA?

Alex powered up his laptop and cracked his knuckles. "Alright, so what are we looking for?"

"Do you know about…HYDRA?" Ari asked tentatively, sitting down in a chair next to him. The Winter Soldier lurked behind Ari, standing. He felt too antsy to sit down and he definitely didn't want to sit next to Alex.

Alex suddenly shot Ari a sharp, suspicious look. "How do _you _know about HYDRA?"

Her jaw fell. "How do _you _know about it?" she demanded. Alex shiftily avoided her gaze and she repeated, "Alex, how do you know about HYDRA?"

He looked a little sheepish now, running his hands through his blonde hair. (How did two people who looked so different come to be siblings? wondered the Winter Soldier. Ari was dark brown hair and bright blue eyes and Alex was blond hair and brown eyes. Ari actually resembled the Winter Soldier far more than she resembled Alex, except she was obviously much smaller.) "I…" He cleared his throat. "I may have…run across it a long time ago. When I was a teenager. And sort of hacked into their files."

"What?" demanded the Winter Soldier, unable to control himself. How had a teenager managed to stumble across HYDRA, hack into their systems, and _never _get caught? He truly must have been amazing.

Ari's jaw had fallen for a different reason. "You hacked into a dangerous organization's files?" she demanded shrilly. "_While _you were living with me and Mom and Dad? Did you never think about our safety or what HYDRA would have done to us if you'd been found out?" Her hand cracked across Alex's face, snapping it to the side, leaving a bright red handprint.

"I'm _sorry_," snapped Alex. "I was a kid." He chuckled. "And it was so easy to get in, I swear… I'm sure they've updated their security. I mean, I only managed to flit in once or twice as a kid…just long enough to realize what they were…"

The Winter Soldier could see what Ari meant about Alex being an a-hole. He didn't seem aware of how dangerous HYDRA truly was. He was incredibly lucky that his hacking in had never been detected (probably because it had been so minor and had only accessed first-level files) because if it had, HYDRA would have "accidentally" dropped an explosive on his house, killing all the Maddens and blaming it on some freak accident. And that was the _nice _option. They might have easily dragged the whole family into their headquarters and tortured them until they completely lost their mind, demanding to know why they had been hacking in, who they worked for, what they were looking for, what they had found, and so on… The Winter Soldier knew because he'd seen it done before. He'd even helped once or twice. This was back when he snapped necks like it was as easy and trivial as eating a cracker. He itched to tell Alex the danger he'd escaped, the danger that he might have subjected his family to, but he had a feeling Alex either wouldn't care or wouldn't believe him. So instead, he did something even stranger: he put a hand (the flesh one) on Ari's shoulder. She'd been shaking in rage and he was actually trying to still her because she was making him very anxious (he didn't like people being keyed up around him; it made him tense)…but she must have taken it as him trying to comfort him. She shrugged his hand off but she nodded at him and then a blank expression crossed her face as she looked at Alex. The Winter Soldier recognized the look. She was shutting down, locking her emotions away so she could interact with Alex without letting years and years of pent-up anger get in the way.

"We need to track down HYDRA," she said harshly. "That fiasco that happened in D.C. a few weeks ago? That was HYDRA going down. They'd infiltrated this 'good' organization called SHIELD and they had some…weird plan to do something horrible. Whatever. There was a big fight, Captain America was involved, and HYDRA vanished. But they're still out there and we need to find where they're hiding out, or where they keep their files."

"What's in their files?" asked Alex. A hungry look had come into his eyes that sent off alarms in the Winter Soldier's head.

"Nothing," he said roughly. "Do what Ari told you to do—_now_."

"How can I do that if I don't know what I'm looking for?" Alex demanded. "You have to give me some details."

Ari hesitated but the Winter Soldier cut in again. Alex wanted some information? Fine. He would get it. He asked for it, now he was going to have to digest it. "We're looking for files on the Winter Soldier," he said in a low voice, a voice that laced with dangerous warnings. "That's right, _I'm _the Winter Soldier. I used to be an assassin for HYDRA and I need their files on me."

Alex had paled slightly but then he suddenly he smirked. "Assassin? No…no way, dude… That's just a story to impress the girls."

"Impress the girls?" Ari asked under her breath incredulously. "_Oooh_, he can murder me, what a turn on!" Sarcasm oozed off her tongue.

The Winter Soldier flipped out his switchblade from his belt quicker than Alex could blink and then he had jammed it under Alex's neck, delicately tracing down his jugular vein. "Still don't believe me?" whispered the Winter Soldier malevolently.

"Okay—OKAY, I got it!" said Alex, swallowing, looking properly fearful for the first time. _Good_. The Winter Soldier pocketed his blade, watching Alex closely. Alex glared at him and muttered, "Freaking psycho," but dragged the laptop towards him and said, "Alright…let's get working."

What happened next was…boring. The Winter Soldier had done hacking, but not much—only elementary-level hacking into computers and alarm systems that only had minimal protection. It was always amusing how many powerful people only had one password which was almost always something really obvious, like the name of their mistress or pet. And that type of hacking had always only taken a few minutes at most. What Alex was attempting to achieve was big-scale. HYDRA was weakened but still a powerful organization. Finding them wouldn't be easy. Breaking into their files would be harder. Alex Madden had last broken into their files years ago. HYDRA' s security would have updated to the best, most upscale security that there was. It all depended on if Alex was as good as he claimed to be.

Ari watched at first but eventually she got bored and she wandered away to sit on the sofa and read a book. The Winter Soldier stood a foot away from Alex and watched the screen carefully. At one point, Alex looked over his shoulder and said, "Dude, your staring is creepy. Or is it my looks you're admiring? I'm a handsome guy, I admit, but a little out of your league, don't you think?"

"If you think I'm letting you hack into my files without me watching, you're dead wrong," replied the Winter Soldier. "Emphasis on the word _dead_."

Alex didn't complain again after that.

Hours passed and Alex clicked and typed away, searching through black screens with scrolling symbols that flashed white and green and other strange things that made no sense to the Winter Soldier. He expected Alex to get frustrated or bored but he seemed to get even more excited and happy when another hour had passed and nothing had been found. It was like he relished the hunt. He was so absorbed in his task that he even forgot to make fun of Ari and the Winter Soldier and the house for a little bit. The Winter Soldier considered it a blessing in disguise; it had seemed that nothing on this planet could shut Alex Madden up.

Ari fell asleep on the couch eventually and still the Winter Soldier watched Alex quietly. He was bored, too, but he wasn't taking his eyes off the screen. He hadn't forgotten the look that had crossed Alex's eyes when he had asked what was in the files. It had been a dangerous look, one that was hungry and said something wasn't quite right with Alex. The Winter Soldier trusted him as much as he trusted HYDRA right now…which was not at all.

Ari eventually woke up and decided to make dinner but as she stared into the fridge, she said, "Screw it," and slammed three bowls, a gallon of milk, and cereal on the table. "We're having cereal for dinner." Alex was so engrossed in his work that he didn't even look up. "Soldier, come here, I'm going to assess you," said Ari.

"I have to watch him," said the Winter Soldier.

"I'll do it where he's in your eyesight."

He stepped back and perched on the arm of the sofa, keeping his eyes on Alex's laptop, while Ari assessed him all his systems physically and asked questions about if anything hurt, where it hurt, for how long, aggravating factors…basic things. Then she asked him about his memories and he shook his head, motioning to Alex, and she shut her mouth, understanding. Neither of them trusted Alex with the information that the Winter Soldier was recovering his memories—and that his memories were paining him.

Ari ate cereal (the Winter Soldier and Alex didn't) and went to bed, warning, "Any more fights and I'll call the police myself," before leaving. The light outside darkened and the Winter Soldier switched on some lamps and still stood there, leaning back against the wall, arms folded. This was incredibly boring. Who knew hacking and tracking were so boring? So…boring… His eyes had almost started to drift shut of their own accord when Alex suddenly leaped to his feet, knocking his chair backwards, and yelled, "I GOT IT!"

The Winter Soldier's eyes shot open and he was immediately at Alex's side, peering at the screen. Ari came running out her room, rubbing her eyes, wearing a t-shirt and baggy black track pants. She leaned over and peered at the screen and for a moment the room was silent. Then she and the Winter Soldier exchanged glances and Ari said, "I have no idea what that says."

Neither did the Winter Soldier but he didn't want to admit it.

Alex smirked, his annoying expression returning. "Of course you don't," he said smugly "They're in code. Even I can't read the actual files…but I can figure out the titles. Trust me…I've found HYDRA. Here are their coordinates. I've even managed to get access to their files…here are all the files on 'The Winter Soldier Project'."

"Print them out," snapped Ari. "Quickly!"

"What?" asked Alex.

"Alex, are you an _idiot_? Print out all the papers we need and get out of their system as fast as you can," said Ari. "If they find…" She fell silent at the fierce look the Winter Soldier gave her.

Alex gave her a suspicious look, his eyes swiveling from her to the Winter Solder. "You're hiding something from me. Is Mr. Winter Soldier not supposed to be hacking into their files? I thought he worked for them."

"Would you like a dagger in your eyeball?" asked the Winter Soldier. "Print. The. Papers."

Alex scowled but immediately began to print all the pages. The printing itself took well over one hour because there were _so many _papers, all coded in a way that didn't make sense to any of them. And a few of the pages reported HYDRA's location, which none of them could make sense of either. Finally, when hundreds of pages had printed, Alex immediately got out of HYDRA's system and then set to cleaning out his laptop so no trace of his hacking and tracing could be found out.

Ari found a binder clip and clipped all the papers and handed them to the Winter Soldier. "Here you go," she said grimly. "We've found your files. And they're useless. We can't decipher this code."

The Winter Soldier privately agreed but he still took the papers and sat down on the sofa, staring at the meaningless symbols and letters. What did they mean? Did the key to who he was lay within these papers? Would these papers explain why _he _had been chosen to become the Winter Soldier? Would they talk about the tests that had been done on him? Would there be any records as to who Bucky Barnes had been? He closed his eyes, a throbbing headache coming on strong, and leaned back on the couch, trying to clear his mind from the frustrating thoughts that were pulsing behind his eyes. His brain felt tight, like it might explode. There wasn't enough room in his skull for all his conflicted thoughts.

Alex packed up his laptop and stood up. Ari immediately faced him and said, "Get out." Alex looked shocked and said, "Wait, what? I just helped you!"

Ari crossed her arms. "I know. That doesn't make up for the last gazillion years. Get out of my house."

"Not for much longer," sneered Alex. "Remember our deal?"

The Winter Soldier opened one eye and watched them, curiosity piqued. Here was the mysterious deal Ari had made with her brother.

"Yes," snapped Ari. "But I'll uphold that _after _I help Soldier. Get out, go back to California. You have enough money to leave right now."

"You won't even let me stay the night?" Alex mockingly clapped a hand to his chest. "Thanks a lot, dear sister. I feel the love."

"What love?" Ari asked quietly.

Alex fell silent for a moment and then he rolled his eyes. "You always were a bitch. Such a drama queen. Fine, whatever, Ari, kick me out. I expect our deal to be upheld at the end of this mess you're in or I'll make things _very _hard for you. You know that." He grabbed his bags which had been dropped in the front hall and left, slamming the door so hard the frame shook.

"You always do," murmured Ari, gripping the chair next to her tightly. She was looking away from the Winter Soldier so he couldn't see her expression, but then she looked at him, a determined look on her face. "Sorry about that scene. But I needed Alex to leave. For obvious reasons—but also because we need to get moving in the morning and Alex is like a lazy sloth. He would have held us up and asked nosy questions. The best way to get Alex to move fast is to insult him and piss him off."

"What was the deal you two made?" asked the Winter Soldier.

"Not right now," she said. "We need to pack."

"To go _where_?" demanded the Winter Soldier.

Ari immediately looked on her guard. She brushed her hair back and said, "Don't freak out, okay?"

"Are you going to say something to make me freak out?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"We need to find someone who can decode these files for her," she said tentatively. "And I'm guessing only someone at HYDRA can decode them. Which means we need to break into HYDRA headquarters. Except…we can't do that alone. We need to first find someone to help us figure out this coordinates and help get us to HYDRA headquarters. And I think"—she took a deep breath—"that SHIELD can help us with that. And Captain America," she added quickly, as if saying it quickly wouldn't make it sound as bad.

_"I'm with you till the end of the line!"_

_ "Your names is James Buchanan Barnes."_

"NO!" The Winter Soldier was on his feet, panic mingling with fear and anger. Breaking back into HYDRA…exposing himself to SHIELD…coming face-to-face with Captain America (even though it had been weeks)…he couldn't do it. It was too soon. He felt like his mind was unraveling.

"Soldier, you have to," said Ari gently. "You can't keep running. Where will you go? No place on Earth can give you answers to who James Buchanan Barnes was except for HYDRA and SHIELD and Captain America. And last we heard of them, they're all still in D.C. You need answers."

"I'm not ready," he spat out, hating Ari for making him admit this—but hating himself more for feeling this way. So much for being a dangerous master assassin. He felt more like a mental incompetent fool now, confused and blundering and afraid of a man called something as ridiculous as _Captain America_.

Or was he afraid of what Captain America would tell him? Afraid that he'd realize all the things that had been stolen from him couldn't be brought back? The truth could hurt worse than any lie, he was slowly figuring that out.

"I think you're ready," said Ari quietly, "but if you really don't feel ready…we won't go. I just think the longer you wait, the worse you'll feel. But it's up to you."

The Winter Soldier sat there for a moment, staring at the wall in front of him—all the fragmented memories he'd recalled rushing past in his mind like a strange flipbook—and then he licked his dry lips, trying to rub the dull throb in his temples away, and looked at the one person who'd given him a chance and was giving him yet another chance to find out who he was. "Fine," he said, swallowing. "We leave tomorrow."

"Then you'd better get ready," said Ari. "Because you're going to meet Captain America." And with those somewhat ominous sounding words, she turned and disappeared back into her room, leaving him sitting in the dark family room alone, staring into the empty fireplace.


	5. Chapter 5

The Winter Soldier didn't sleep. He sat on the sofa, staring into the darkness for a long time, and when he finally went to his room, he couldn't fall asleep as well. He lay in the dark and stared up at the ceiling, feeling equal parts anxious and confused. Eventually, he grabbed the papers Alex had printed and quietly left the house, sitting on the porch and flipping through them. They didn't make any sense but it felt like a compulsion; he couldn't stop rifling through them. On one page near the end, he found a blurry black-and-white photo of him that he had missed earlier. It was him…but his hair was short, his eyes were closed, and he looked thin and gaunt. Deep shadows ringed his eyes and he lay on some sort metal gurney, though the photo was so blurry that it was hard to tell. One arm hung slightly off the gurney and the other… It felt like the Winter Soldier's stomach had dropped. The other arm was missing. It looked like there were messy stitches and gashes near the shoulder where there had once been an arm, but there was clearly dried and crusted blood all around the area where the limb had been ripped—or taken—off. Either HYDRA hadn't known how to properly clean a wound in those days or they hadn't done it yet. The Winter Soldier obviously _knew _he'd once had an arm that had been taken off…but it was a different beast to see himself without it and without the cybernetic arm as well.

_His eyes were opening and he felt awful, like an army tank had run him over several times. His mouth felt cottony and sharp, stabbing pains were shooting up his shoulder. He blinked and then blearily lifted both hands. _

_ A flash of silver. He blinked again, confused, and then gaped at the hand that was somehow extending from his body…but was silver and not human-looking. This wasn't his arm—what the hell was this? Where was HIS arm? _

_ Panic threatened to overwhelm him as he struggled to get up from the metal surface he was tied down too, hysterical and unintelligible sounds escaping his mouth, and then someone was rushing over… In his terror and rage, he lashed out at them, grabbing them by the neck. _Get away_, his mind was screaming, _don't touch me! _His grip on the man's throat tightened almost without even realizing it—controlling this arm felt so foreign—_

_ And then all of a sudden men in white coats were swarming around him and someone stabbed a needle into his neck. His vision immediately began to fade and his limbs went limp and heavy, as if they were bags of wet cement. He blinked, a little bit of drool coming out of his mouth, and then he saw an ugly little face sitting by him, saying something…about… "Marvelous experiment…"_

_ And then he was gone._

"SHIT!" The word burst from his mouth before he could control himself. The pain that had come with this memory— He clutched his head and leaned back, groaning. He couldn't even take regular human medication for this. Something as mundane as Tylenol wouldn't work on his system. He would need to take at least four 1000 mg pills of Tylenol and Ari probably wouldn't let him do that.

He covered his hands with his face and sat there on the porch for the rest of the night, trying to clear his mind. Around four a.m., he heard noises from inside the house and knew Ari was moving around. Apparently she couldn't sleep either. He went back inside an hour later just as she was lugging two black duffel bags that looked extremely heavy into the kitchen. She was sweating and she was wearing skinny jeans, an oversized black sweater, and black Converse sneakers. Her long hair was being pushed back by a thin black velvet headband.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Packing," she said. "We can't go on a trip without _packing_. We need things."

"Like…?"

"Like food," she said. "Medicine. Emergency kits. Some of my equipment. My laptop. Electronics. _Clothes_."

Speaking of which, he needed to remind Ari to buy him some clothes in some colors other than black.

"Why are you up so early?"

"Because we're leaving early," said Ari. "I want to get a head start—and I have a quick errand to run, too. Do you mind?"

"No."

"Okay," she said. "Eat breakfast while I take the bags to the car." She pointed to the fridge and then dragged the bags out of the house.

The Winter Soldier decided to indulge in the modern delicacy of Trix cereal. He'd always been fed bland food back at HYDRA, food that had been specifically engineered with the maximum amount of carbs, nutrients, electrolytes, and other chemicals he needed to be stronger, faster, better than all the rest. But they'd never cared about making the food taste good. After so many decades of their food he hadn't even realized food _could _taste good, but Ari had changed that. He also ate a lot more than she'd expected, so she'd started making food in double the quantity. As it was, he inhaled three bowls of cereal and then rinsed his bowl and put it away. It wasn't something he would have done before but he was changing slightly.

Ari had been wandering in and out of the house, taking random things to the car, and when she saw that he was done, she asked him a few questions about his health—"How do you feel? Any dizziness, aches, pains? Any changes in movement?"—and then she clapped her hands and said, "Let's get the show on the road!" Her eyes were a little shiny and she looked a little too excited for someone who was going on a strange road trip with an assassin at five in the morning. He wondered why she was so happy.

He got into the passenger seat of her car and they pulled off, the sky just beginning to lighten and turn the palest lavender. Her house lights were on. She didn't want it to seem like no one was home "because burglars" had been her reasoning.

He expected her to pull onto the highway that she'd brought him from—since that was the direction Washington D.C. was in—but she headed in the opposite direction, driving through the community and into the small town. All the shops were closed but he saw a few stray early-morning joggers passing by, their hoods drawn over their heads. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"I just have one quick thing to do," she said and she didn't elaborate any further. She pulled up to a large white building which said RIVERSIDE HOPSITAL and parked in a parking lot that was labeled "Employee Access Only."

"Wait here," she said, getting out of the car and grabbing her purse and keys. "_Don't _wander off this time," she added, but he suspected she was teasing because her tone was lighthearted. She ran off into the hospital and he watched her go. All of her movements seemed quick and flighty, like a hummingbird, but they were also very calm and assured. She didn't seem to hesitate when it came to doing anything.

He looked around him. The parking lot was mostly empty but the occasional car would drive up and park and people would straighten their clothes and hurry towards the building, holding bags and lunch bags and purses and thermoses of coffee. The morning staff was arriving. He also saw a few bleary, exhausted people—mostly women—ambling to their cars, also clutching Styrofoam cups of coffee, and driving off. The hospital had had lights on in the parking lot but as the sky increasingly lightened, the orange parking lot lights clicked off. They were on an automated timer. No one even glanced at him in the car; he suspected most people were too tired to notice him, and it was also too dark to really notice him.

After twenty minutes, Ari came back out. She was smiling but it didn't reach her eyes and he could real the anxiety and some other emotion on her face—sadness?—but he didn't question it. He wasn't comfortable discussing feelings with people, especially not other peoples' feelings. What if they poured their heart out? How would he respond? He could barely empathize with people yet and he was terrible at conveying any sincere form of sympathy or emotion. He still cringed somewhat when he remembered his response to Ari's emotional story about Alex: "That sucks."

"What did you do in there?" he asked.

"You don't have to worry about it," she said.

This irritated him. She was treating him like a child and she didn't have to. He had a right to know. He was tired of her hiding information from him. He grabbed her arm roughly and asked, "What did you do inside there?"

Ari turned slowly to face him and raised an eyebrow. "If you were trying to intimidate me by grabbing me, it didn't work. Please let go of my arm. I want to help you, Soldier, but what I did inside has nothing to do with you and I have a right to my own privacy. If we want to work to get your memories back and find out who you were, you're going to have to behave appropriately. And grabbing people is not appropriate."

The Winter Soldier felt like he had been slapped. His face burned slightly and he let go of her and muttered, "Sorry…"

"It's fine," she said easily. "You have instincts and temperamental problems due to your confusion and the fact that you were an assassin…I get that. Just try to take a deep breath and count to five silently in your head the next time you feel the urge to do something irrational." And with those wise words, she swung out of the parking lot and headed back through town towards the highway.

She let him know that the drive was a couple of hours so he should make himself comfortable. He didn't know how to do that, however, so he sat there stiffly, unsure of how to behave or how to act. Even in Ari's house he had been able to escape to his room to avoid spending too much time face-to-face with her. And they weren't face-to-face here but they were definitely side-by-side. Were they supposed to talk? Should he say something to her? What was there even to say? A part of him wanted to thank her for doing this but he couldn't make himself say it, he didn't know why.

Luckily for him, Ari seemed comfortable in the silence and she eventually turned the radio on, asking him if it was okay. He didn't care so she turned up her music loudly and rolled down the windows as the sun climbed higher in the sky, the wind blowing her hair back from her face. When the sun shone in her face, she slipped a pair of aviators onto her face and sang along with her music with no self-consciousness. She wasn't amazing, but she wasn't too horrible either. At the very least the Winter Soldier didn't want to rip his own ears off. If someone had driven past them and simply looked at Ari, she would have looked like a happy and carefree young woman going on a joyride. But that was only if they disregarded the surly-looking man in all black with long messy hair and shadows under his eyes sitting next to her, awkwardly looking anywhere but Ari.

But she wasn't as happy as she was letting on, was she? The Winter Soldier stole glances at her, observing her and noticed that her hands seemed to tremble every now and then and she also shook her head once or twice, as if trying to clear her head of troublesome thoughts. Her smile faltered once or twice but it happened in the blink of an eye and next second she seemed fine again. She wasn't so unlike him, in some ways, he realized to himself. She knew just as well as he did how to put on a poker face and he didn't doubt that someone less observant than him (and with less amazing eyesight) would never have noticed that she wasn't extremely happy.

_"We were young and drinking in the park, _

_ There was nowhere else to go._

_ And you said you always had my back, _

_ Oh, but how were we to know…_

_ That these are the days that bind you together, forever._

_ And these little things that define you, forever._

_ All this bad blood here, won't you let it dry?_

_ It's been cold for years, won't you let it lie?"_

The Winter Soldier's skin felt a bit prickly as he took in the lyrics of the song Ari was singing under her breath too. He knew the song had nothing to do with him…but it _had _been cold for years, hadn't it? So many years of never-ending cold. So many years of being frozen in sleep, so many years of waking up with ice crystals on his hair and eyelashes and faces, so many years of being the Winter Soldier. So many years of never feeling like he had fully thawed out, so many years of feeling like a block of ice inside. And there _had _been blood, quite a lot of it spilled mercilessly over the years…

He took a shuddering breath and quietly asked, "Can you turn the song off?"

Ari looked at him and her expression immediately changed to alarm. She turned the song off and pulled over to an overpass right away. "Are you okay?" she demanded. She leaned closer and he leaned back, alarmed. "You're white—and you're sweating. What's wrong? Was it a memory?"

"Not…not exactly," he said. "That song…it just reminded me of my life."

"Your life as…Bucky Barnes?" she asked.

"No. My life as the Winter Soldier."

"Oh." She hesitated and then said, "Want to talk about it?"

He was about to say no right away, like he always did—why would he want to _talk _about it? What would _talking_ about anything accomplish?—but when he opened his mouth, the words came out like uncontrollable word vomit. "I…I just remembered being cold. I was always cold. Physically, I was…they locked my in the ice a lot. And they thought I was asleep, and in a way, I was…but I could still _feel _it. I was still aware I was in the ice. I wasn't dead…I was sort of asleep…but I could feel the ice pressing in on me, feel it in my throat. And when I woke up…I did things." He looked her dead in the eye and raised his cybernetic hand, showing her. "I killed people. I spilled blood. I was cold inside too. I still am…" He trailed off. "I don't know. Why does it matter, finding out who James—James Buchanan Barnes was?" He stumbled over the name. "I can't go back to being whoever he was. I've done stuff. I've seen things."

"Haven't we all?" Ari asked quietly. "I'm not…I'm not saying that what I've seen is worse than what you saw or did. But there _are _people who see and do worse, Soldier. There are humans who live in war-torn countries and live through genocides. Who see everyone they love murdered. And there are people who do bad, horrible things…and change. I know. I've worked with them. I've had patients who were criminals, who had done things that disgusted me inside. But I put on a brave face and I helped them and…some of them went on to become great people. Some of them didn't, of course. But the choice lays with _you_. You get to decide who to be from now on. You used to be James Buchanan Barnes. And then you were the Winter Soldier, against your will. This time you get to choose. You can be all of one or none of any or you can be a mix of the two—or you can be someone totally new. And you can't ever forget that you were _forced _to do these things," she added. "It doesn't justify the people you killed—but it also means that you're not one hundred percent to blame. You're not a cold-blooded murderer. If you were, you wouldn't be having these feelings."

"What feelings?" he asked, afraid of the answer.

"It's called _remorse_, Soldier," she said.

They sat there in silence for a moment, not speaking. Suddenly the sound of police sirens wailed up behind them and the Winter Soldier stiffened, feeling a bit of panic. Ari looked at him and hissed, "Stay calm! Stop fidgeting! Actually—look at this like you're texting!" She tossed him her iPhone and he stared intently at the screen, unaware of what he was looking at (which happened to be Ari's Instagram page.

A cop strolled up to Ari's window and she rolled it down and smiled sweetly. "Hello, Officer."

"Hi, miss…is there a problem here?" the officer asked, peering into the car. His gaze fell on the Winter Soldier and the Winter Soldier furiously moved his thumbs the way he had seen Ari text. He tried to compose his face into one that looked deeply interested in whatever was on his screen. A drop of sweat trickled down the back of his neck. Would this police officer somehow recognize him? The Winter Soldier didn't know if law enforcement had been given a photo of him, to watch out for him. He should have cut his hair. He should have worn a hat. He should have—

"Oh, no, we just stopped to make a phone call," said Ari. "Can't talk and drive, you know!"

The officer nodded absentmindedly, still staring at the Winter Soldier who was pointedly ignoring him. The officer himself wasn't a threat—the Winter Soldier could have taken him out in three seconds—but the Winter Soldier also knew that not only would Ari never let him do that, killing a police officer on the side of a busy highway would almost surely blow his cover. And where there was one cop, there were always five more close behind. He was just worried that the police officer would somehow recognize him from the mess in D.C.

But the cop shrugged and said, "Okay. Keep moving, please," and ambled back to his car.

Ari let out a relieved sigh, rolled up her window, and merged back into traffic. She turned her music back on but more quietly this time and it didn't trigger any strange feelings in the Winter Soldier. They drove in silence for a few hours and stopped a rest-stop/gas station to use the bathroom. Ari handed the Winter Soldier one of her hair ties in case he didn't want to attract any attention and she bought a blue baseball cap and an oversized light gray sweatshirt for him. "To make you fit in more," she told him. "I guess the all-black wasn't smart…though I still think you look cool in it. You look badass."

"Uh…thanks," he said.

They headed off again and she didn't turn the music on this time. It was early afternoon, around lunch time, but he wasn't hungry, so she didn't stop anywhere to eat. He'd been up all night and the smooth feeling of the car on the highway and the hum of the engine soon…made…his eyelids…fall shut…

"Soldier." Someone shook his shoulder gently and he shot upright, eyes flying open. He rubbed his eyes and looked around. They were parked outside a large white building. He looked around to see Ari looking at him. "Where are we?" he asked.

"Washington D.C.," she said. "You fell asleep for the rest of the journey. You looked really tired, so I didn't wake you to eat even though I stopped somewhere. Sorry. But you can eat now."

He looked at the building, feeling a bit confused. Seeing his expression, she clarified, "We're at a hotel. We won't actually be meeting Captain America till tomorrow. So we needed somewhere to stay."

"Why tomorrow?" asked the Winter Soldier. He sat up, pushing his hair out of his face and then he frowned, a sudden question hitting him. "Wait…how will we meet…Captain America? How do you…?"

Ari suddenly blushed. "Well…I sort of did my research."

The Winter Soldier waited.

"I couldn't sleep last night—or, this morning, I guess it was," she said. "So I thought, _Wait, how are we going to even find Captain America? _So I started digging around on the Internet and I dug…well, pretty deep. And I found all this stalker-ish websites created by fangirls who sort of document public sightings of him. And apparently he goes jogging every morning around the Washington Monument. But he goes at, like, five a.m. So we'll have to go meet him tomorrow."

The Winter Soldier stared at her.

"What?" she asked defensively. "I didn't know how else to find him! I could have asked Alex to track him down—but after how I threw him out yesterday, Alex would have refused. Plus, I'm not sure I want Alex knowing we're going to meet Captain America. Alex is really greedy; he'd probably force us to let him tag along."

The Winter Soldier felt a headache coming on and rubbed his temples. Meeting Captain America tomorrow…well, he'd known it had to happen eventually. He still didn't feel ready to look into the face of the person who had apparently been his closest friend…especially after he'd beat the living daylights out of him and tried to kill him several times…but he had nothing to wait for. At least he still had the rest of the day to prepare himself mentally. And Ari would be with him. The thought reassured him for some strange reason.

His stomach rumbled and he said, "I'm hungry," so they got out of the car and Ari said, "I'd take you out to eat…but considering you sort of destroyed a part of D.C. only a few weeks ago, I think it's best if we stay out of sight. Let me go check in and get the keys to our rooms and then we'll sneak you in, alright?"

He leaned against the car, crossing his arms and pulling his cap down and waiting. Two teenage girls nearby got out of a Mercedes convertible and looked at him curiously and he avoided their gaze, staring determinedly at his feet. He hoped they'd walk away soon but he kept sensing they were staring—and then they started _giggling _and whispering to each other. He suddenly felt extremely antsy and he looked at them for a moment. They had been staring but they immediately turned away when he looked up and he could hear them whispering even more furiously. He looked back down, alarmed now, and was extremely relieved when Ari came back a few minutes later.

He pointed to the girls and hissed, "I think they recognize me. They keep staring at me and whispering. What do we do?"

Ari looked at the girls for a moment—and then she burst out laughing. The girls looked over at the sound of her laugh and their eyes widened when they saw Ari standing by him and then the girls scowled so fiercely that the Winter Soldier was actually surprised. Ari grinned wickedly at them and then said, "Okay, Soldier, let's get inside." They got the bags from the car and then she led the way, still laughing silently to herself. The Winter Soldier followed, mystified; what was so funny? Had Ari lost her mind?

She led him through a side door that led directly to the hallways and down the hall, up a flight of stairs, down another hall and to a door that said 246. She paused for a moment and then said, "Okay…I don't mean to be awkward…but they didn't have two rooms available. They were all full up. They only had one room."

The Winter Soldier stared at her and then he said, "I'll sleep in the car." One room. One bed. He liked Ari well enough by now but sharing a bed with her would have put him more on edge than a cat who'd just had its tail stepped on _and _a bucket of ice water thrown on it. The thought of being that close to any human made him feel trapped and anxious.

"Soldier, relax," scoffed Ari. "It has double beds. Who do you take me for?"

"Oh." The backs of the Soldier's neck and ears burned and he didn't understand this strange feeling that was coursing through him; was it embarrassment? He'd never really felt this way before. He'd never messed up before, never had cause to be embarrassed or humiliated. Was acting truly human always so annoying and full of unwanted feelings?

She unlocked the door and they carried the bags in, shutting the door behind them. The room was relatively large with two beds, two nightstands with lamps, a table, a sofa, a TV, and closet and a bathroom. The carpet was dark green, the walls were cream, and the beds were white. Standard average hotel fare. Nothing too cheap, nothing too fancy. The Winter Soldier dumped the bags he was holding on the bed and sat down on the bed near the window. He chose that one purpose; the window was a possible exit in case of an emergency and he wanted to be near enough to be able to shatter it and be out of it in seconds, if need be.

"Now tell me why those girls were staring," he demanded. "And why did you laugh?"

Ari grinned at him. "You're like a twelve-year-old. This is amazing. Soldier, they didn't recognize you—they thought you were _cute_. They were giggling because they were teenage girls and they thought you were attractive."

The Winter Solder blinked, feeling extremely out of his depth and confused. He knew he wasn't ugly… He'd never actually given much thought to his looks, because why would he? He'd had no cause to care before. He didn't have a personal life at HYDRA and his looks hadn't mattered. Still, a vague part of him had known that he at least was more decent-looking than some of the ugly, wrinkly old men he had killed. And Bucky Barnes had been popular with women, if his memories were any indication. But the person he was now, the Winter Soldier he was now…this was all very awkward and strange. He wasn't used to being stared at, especially not by women. They liked his face? They probably wouldn't if they knew the kinds of things the person behind the face had done.

"And then they glared at me because I'm a woman," explained Ari. "They were sort of jealous. They thought I'm with you."

"You are with me," said the Winter Soldier automatically.

"Soldier. They thought I was _with _you. As in, dating you. As in your girlfriend. Or wife, I guess," she added after thinking for a moment. "Whatever."

Now the Winter Soldier wanted to change the subject. The thought of being so intimate with anyone was horrifying and terrifying all at the same time. But for some reason, Ari sat down on the bed across from him and seriously asked, "How does that make you feel?"

_Like running away to the other end of the earth_, he wanted to respond, but he didn't know if that would be appropriate. What was Ari asking? Did she actually have some sort of feelings for him? If she did, he would silently slip away in the middle of the night and find Captain America on his own. He didn't have the capacity to deal with things like this. "What do you mean?" he finally asked.

"Soldier, I'm not in love with you," said Ari, smiling. "I can see the worry on your face. I've come to recognize it; you look around like a cornered animal, like you want to punch your way out of the room. So relax. I have no interest in a romantic relationship with you. First of all, you're not…exactly my type. No offense. Second of all, I consider you my patient—even if you're an unofficial one—and that would be highly inappropriate and crossing boundaries that I am not willing to cross. It would be unethical. What I _meant _was…how does the idea of someone being in a relationship with you make you feel?"

"Like dying," he said honestly, knowing she was asking to assess him.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, crossing her legs. Her expression had gone calm, straight-faced, and her tone had gone neutral and pleasantly inquisitive. She was in nurse mode in the blink of an eye.

"I can't…that's not…no," he finally said. The eloquence of his response was truly breathtaking.

"Are you saying that you don't feel ready for that?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "I mean, no. I mean, _yes_, I don't feel ready."

"Why do you think that is?" she asked.

He scowled. "Why do you think? I don't…I don't even know who I am, how to be a normal person. I don't even have friends. How could I…how could I ever be close to someone…_that _way? I don't—I don't know how I would even…" The Winter Soldier had never wanted to smash open a window and escape so badly before in his life.

"That's fine," said Ari, seeing that he was struggling. "Thanks. That's all I wanted to know." And to his immense relief, she got up and left, saying, "I'll go get some food for you. It's best if you're not seen by many people."

While Ari was gone, the Winter Solder paced the room back and forth like a caged panther—an extremely irritable panther. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would meet Captain America. Also known as Steve Rogers. Also known as…his best friend. After he'd saved Steve from drowning in the river, he'd gone to the Smithsonian to see the Captain America exhibit and he'd seen his face staring down from several of the screens and photos. Or, at least, it looked like his face. It was more clean-shaven, with short cut hair and a handsome face, whether he was laughing with Steve Rogers or staring pensively into the distance. He looked like a good guy, like an honorable hero. Now…the Winter Soldier crossed the room and looked into the mirror. A man with shadows under his narrowed eyes and straight-set brows and a stubbly face and long messy brown hair stared back at him. Someone who looked dangerous and angry. Was it just the looks that did it? Perhaps he should cut his hair, shave his face perfectly clean, try to smile more.

He tried to smile at himself in the mirror but it felt awkward and fake. He looked like he was in pain. He dropped the smile and turned away. He didn't like seeing the animal he had become in the mirror.

The door opened and Ari entered, carried two bags with the McDonald's logo. "Sorry it's fast-food," she said, handing both bags to him. "I know it's gross—but there was nothing else proper nearby. So…"

"You're not eating?" he asked.

"I'm not hungry," she said, "and I ate in the car. Also, I had no idea what you liked, so…"

"You got one of almost everything, it looks like," said the Winter Soldier, peering into the bag. His mouth twitched into something that somewhat resembled a smile and Ari gasped and then grinned at him. "Soldier, did you just _smile _at something I said?" His mouth twitched even further and she said, "Wow, was that the first time you've smiled since the 40's?"

His smile fell off his face and she immediately looked ashamed of herself. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I don't know what's wrong with me. That was so insensitive—"

"It's fine," he said. She didn't need to apologize. He was almost positive she was correct. He ate his food while Ari read a book on her bed with her earbuds stuck into her ears. After he was done eating (he ate almost all of it, too, since he was that hungry), he sat on his bed, having no idea what to do now. He felt a bit cramped and twitchy. Back at Ari's house, he could have sat on his bed and zoned out but he felt strange zoning out in front of Ari, even though she wasn't even paying him any attention. So he examined his palms. They had several deep scars on them, gashes that had healed from his last battle in D.C. He always came back with some sort of wound from his missions…but HYDRA healed him until it was like he was brand-new. Never again would that happen. He would have to actually take care of himself now. Somehow the thought was enticing, even if it meant having to be more careful with himself. He felt like he had some sort of control over himself. He could live—or he could die. It was up to him.

"Catch!" said Ari suddenly. He looked up to see a book flying at his face. He grabbed it using his lightning-fast reflexes before it smashed into his face and glared at her. "What kind of nurse are you? That could have hit me."

"I knew you'd catch it," she said. "I've seen your reflexes. They're unlike that of any other human being." She grinned. "You look bored. Read it. It's amazing."

He looked down at the book in his hand: _A Game of Thrones _by George R. R. Martin. The Winter Soldier could read but he had never read a book for fun before. He didn't even have any memories of James Buchanan Barnes reading for fun, though the Winter Soldier was sure he must have done it at some point. He flipped the book over and read the back. Wars, kings, betrayal… It seemed interested so he shrugged and settled back onto his bed, flipping open to the first page.

The book was actually very interesting and reading helped lull him into a state of peace he never knew he could feel. He actually forgot to fret and agonize over HYDRA and Steve Rogers for once and the time slipped by without him even noticing it, also something new. Even though he was a master at zoning out and sitting still for hours, he was still _aware _of every minute passing by slowly like the dying flicker of a pulse beneath red and purple bruised skin. Slow throbbing. Painful.

In fact, he didn't even notice how much time had gone by until Ari disappeared to the bathroom to wash up and returned wearing a t-shirt and black track pants. "I'm going to bed," she said. "You should too. We're going to be up early. Steve Rogers runs at five a.m. apparently and driving to the Washington Monument will take time too."

The Winter Soldier went to the bathroom, washed up, and changed into the black t-shirt and black track shorts Ari had gotten him as sleepwear. He walked to his bed, highly conscious that his cybernetic arm was showing—he tried to keep it hidden as much as possible—but Ari had already hidden herself in her blankets and showed no signs of stirring. He climbed into his bed and turned his bedside light off and the room was thrown into darkness, which just the slightest sliver of light coming from the slit in the curtains. The moon was full tonight and he found himself staring at the ceiling for a long time, thinking about nothing, listening to the sound of Ari's breathing.

And then, suddenly, Ari whispered—so quietly that he actually wasn't sure if she meant for him to actually hear—"Soldier? I know you said you had no friends." There was a silence, such a long one that the Winter Soldier almost began to wonder if he'd imagined her speaking, but then she said, "You're wrong. You have me. I'm your friend."

And then the night was silent and the Winter Soldier suddenly didn't feel so restless anymore. He fell asleep and his breaths matched Ari's in time, two people in separate worlds and yet somehow on the same plane.


	6. Chapter 6

_Note: First of all, thank you guys so much for your lovely reviews! They're making me so happy! And I'm sorry I'm not responding to your reviews individually. I wish I could, but then I'd be tempted to spoil parts of the story, since many of you are mentioning specific plot points! Just know that I really appreciate all the reviews, I'm reading them all, and thank you for reading my story! _

_By the way, I was totally listening to track 18 called "Captain America" from the CA: TWS soundtrack when I wrote the last couple of paragraphs, if anyone wants to get into the mood. Haha. _

The Winter Soldier must have been more tired than he'd realized because he actually slept through the night without waking up or tossing and turning. Ari shook him awake at 3:30 a.m. and whispered, "Soldier. Wake up. We're leaving soon."

Ari was already dressed so she went to get breakfast while he washed up and got dressed. Even though Ari had bought him some colored clothing, this time he chose to wear all-black. Not that he wanted to intimidate Captain America…but he sort of wanted to intimidate Captain America. After all, Captain America was the only person the Winter Soldier had ever met who matched his strength. The Winter Soldier wanted answers, but he didn't want to go to Steve Rogers looking like a pathetic wounded puppy.

Ari brought back hash browns and coffee from the McDonald's across the street that was open 24/7 apparently (muttering under her breath about the trans fat or something, which he ignored) and they ate quickly, getting ready to go. They were leaving most of their belongings back in the room, since they were only visiting Steve, but when Ari saw that the Winter Soldier was strapping some of his weapons into the inside of his jacket, she froze.

"What are you doing?" she asked in horror. "You can't bring weapons!"

"I damn well can," he said. "The last time we met…we tried to kill each other."

"Captain America is a good guy!" she protested. "He won't try to kill you! He's your best friend, remember? I don't want there to be a gunfight in front of the Washington Monument!"

"There won't be," promised the Winter Soldier, "but I'm still taking some weapons." He actually knew deep down that Steve Rogers wouldn't hurt him—he'd even let the Winter Soldier beat his face bloody without fighting back—but the Winter Soldier was ultimately too conscious to walk into a situation like this without his own personal backup. Speaking of…

"Do you know how to use a weapon?" he asked.

"I mean, I guess I could stab someone with a knife, if I had to," said Ari, mystified. "Why?"

The Winter Soldier held one of his daggers out to her. "You should take this."

"Soldier," began Ari testily, "do you really think Captain America is going to attack me? I can't stop _you _from bringing weapons but I draw the line at bringing them myself. No thank you."

The Winter Soldier frowned but he put his dagger back into his pocket. Ari didn't seem to have much common sense, sometimes. Every person should have a decent knowledge of self-defense and how to wield a basic dagger. He'd show her some other time. They left the room and headed to Ari's car. The Winter Soldier tied his hair back in the car to keep it out of his eyes and Ari looked at him while she was reversing and remarked, "Should we get your hair cut? You don't seem to like it long."

Short hair reminded him of James Buchanan Barnes. Short hair was a Bucky Barnes haircut. He wasn't 100% the Winter Soldier anymore—but he wasn't Bucky Barnes yet. He didn't want to get his hair cut. "No, this is fine," he said, and Ari let the subject drop, mostly because she was frowning at her GPS.

"Washington D.C. is so complicated," she complained to herself. "Not straightforward at all. They could take some cues from the NYC grid system."

As they drove through Washington D.C., the Winter Soldier couldn't help but get slight flashbacks to the last time he'd been here, weeks ago. Back then, he'd been like an automaton. He'd been on a one-track mission: kill Captain America and then kill his partner, Black Widow. And take down any others who helped Captain America, such as that Falcon man and Nick Fury, the director of SHIELD. He'd taken out Nick Fury first and his stomach clenched a bit when he remembered how he'd blown up Nick Fury's armored car. He had murdered someone on Captain America's side. What would Steve do to him for that? Was the Winter Soldier supposed to apologize? He didn't particularly _care_ about Nick Fury—he hadn't known the man at all—but he still felt the smallest bit of regrets at the blood he'd spilled on orders that he'd never even thought to question.

And then there had been the redheaded woman. Black Widow. The Winter Soldier remembered _her_. He'd been assigned to kill someone a few years ago and he had run into her. She'd been protecting the man. They'd had a car chase and then she'd thrown herself in front of his target. He'd shot his target right _through _her. He hadn't been aiming to kill her—she was irrelevant to the mission—but he wouldn't have cared if she'd died. And he'd tried to kill her a few weeks ago… She'd shot his eyepiece and he'd let loose on her, before Captain America had jumped in and Black Widow had escaped.

He would have to face her again. Nick Fury was dead—but he'd have to face Black Widow. Would he have to apologize? He didn't want to. But a part of him felt like he should, especially if he wanted answers from Steve Rogers. Plus, it wasn't exactly like he was an assassin anymore. Being an assassin was all he _knew_…but he didn't have to go around killing people he didn't know anymore and not feel any remorse over it. He was allowed to feel things. He didn't quite feel them fully yet, but he was getting there.

The destruction they'd caused a few weeks ago had actually been pretty well contained within a few blocks and they'd cleaned up the city nicely. He suspected it was because so many of the nation's politicians resided here and they would want to see their city destroyed and ugly. It reflected badly upon the whole country. The sky was dark but it was lightening slightly, turning a pale blue edged with lavender. Black wrought-iron street lamps still glowed softly in the streets and he saw a few joggers out running again, some of them with dogs on leashes. Most stores and houses they passed were dark but some stores' lights were flickering on, workers setting up for the coming day. It was a beautiful area they drove through, the buildings looking fancier than typical buildings. He hazarded a guess that they were in the wealthy area.

And then suddenly the Washington Monument was looming ahead of them, the mall in front of it empty. Ari parked down the street and then turned and looked at Soldier. "Okay," she said. "Listen. You go…hide behind a tree or something. I'll approach Captain America first and sort of break it gently to him. And then I'll bring him to you, or motion for you to come out, okay?"

The Winter Soldier agreed. He didn't mind this plan at all. He himself had been thinking about how awkward and awful it would be to just stroll up to Steve Rogers. What would he have said? "Hey, buddy. Sorry for trying to kill you a few weeks ago"? "Give me answers, _now_"?

They got out of the car and walked down the street towards the mall. The morning was warm and slightly muggy, a summery feel to the air, and it was silent out, with only the slight chirping of some birds breaking the silent dawn. It was peaceful and somewhat surreal, in some ways. He went and sat behind a tree that was right next to the jogging path that looped around the mall and Ari sat on a bench a few feet away, crossing her legs and jiggling her foot nervously, looking around. He wondered what she was so nervous about but then remembered Captain America was something of a celebrity in these times. He'd been a celebrity in Bucky Barnes' time too, it seemed from the Smithsonian exhibit…

_He was standing near a group of men, all dirtied and muddied up, and his body ached. He was smiling at a muscular blond man who stood in front of him, also dirty, and the man was grinning proudly. _

_ He opened his mouth and loudly called, "Let's hear it for CAPTAIN AMERICA!" and the crowd around him let out cheers. He watched them cheer, smiling proudly at the blond man, but his smile didn't reach his heart, which felt a bit bitter. They'd taken his gentle friend and made a weapon out of him… His smile dropped slightly and he looked away from the cheering crowd. _

The Winter Soldier rubbed his aching, throbbing temples and tried to puzzle out what he had just seen. He'd been happy that Steve Rogers was Captain America…but he had also been upset. A strange feeling had overcome him, one which the Winter Soldier had never quite felt before. He couldn't put a name to it, but he remembered feeling upset that his friend had been turned into something he'd always hoped his friend could avoid… If he'd told Ari what he was feeling, she would have told him it was _protectiveness_. But as it was, the Winter Soldier didn't recognize that.

And then he heard Ari hiss at him, "Okay, I see him across the mall! Don't move!" and he automatically froze, crouching and listening closely the way he did back when he would crouch sometimes for hours before taking his kill shot. He never missed.

Steve Rogers ran extremely fast so it was only a few moments before he was running past Ari and then the Winter Soldier heard her leap to her feet and say, "Um, excuse me! Excuse me, sir!"

The Winter Soldier peered from behind the tree, only the most miniscule amount where he was sure Steve Rogers wouldn't see him. His mouth tightened when he saw the muscular blond man, wearing a tight gray t-shirt that was soaked with sweat. He could see the outline of a white bandage under his shirt, across his abdomen, and a small white bandage that was taped to the left side of his neck. Ari was standing in front of him, bouncing slightly on her toes out of nerves, hands in the pockets of her black sweatshirt. She looked absolutely tiny next to him. At 5'6", she was actually of average height, not very short (by female standards) but the Winter Soldier suspected most women—most people, actually—would look rather small next to Captain America.

"Yes?" the man asked slowly.

"Uh, you're—you're Captain America, right?" she asked.

An expression of understanding crossed Steve Rogers' face, as if he knew what Ari wanted, and he gently said, "Yes, ma'am, but I'm a little busy right now—" and made as if to run past Ari, but she grabbed his arm and cried, "Wait!"

He looked down at her hand on his arm and she immediately yanked it away. "Sorry!" she said. "But I'm not a fan! I mean—I _am_ a fan, technically… But I have something to tell you. Something to…_show _you, actually, that I know you'll want to see."

Steve looked somewhat suspicious now, on his guard. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you remember your friend?" Ari asked quietly. "Sol—I mean…James Buchanan Barnes."

It was amazing how quickly Steve's expression changed. He had looked wary and now he looked equal parts extremely shocked and also extremely serious. He took a step towards Ari and said, in a tone that clearly said _I mean business_, "What are you talking about? Do you know something about him? Who are you?"

"Calm down," said Ari, holding up a hand. "You'll get all your answers. I just need you to take a step back, Mr…Rogers."

Steve looked down and seemed to realize that he'd taken a somewhat intimidating step towards Ari, as if to grab her and keep her from escaping with her answers (as if she could outrun him anyway). "Sorry," he said, quickly taking a step back. "Just…who are you? What do you know about Bucky?"

Ari took a deep breath. "Listen to me carefully," she said. "I know where…Bucky is. But I'll only let you see him if you listen to me."

Something shifted in Steve's eyes and the Winter Soldier recognized the look: it was the look of a man who had locked onto a trail. The Winter Soldier almost wanted to spare Ari the trouble of explaining everything and step out into view, because he knew Steve wasn't going to just let Ari walk away. But he stayed hidden and Steve nodded and folded his arms, saying, "Alright. Explain."

"My name is Aritamis Madden," she said. "Ari for short. I live in North Carolina. About a week ago, I picked up a hitchhiker on the highway. He was confused, had memory problems, looked dirty and hungry, and was obviously physically wounded and ill. I'm a nurse but I didn't want to admit him to a hospital because he looked a bit…paranoid. Also, I had suspicions that he might be on the run or something, because he sort of looked like he'd been through battle, and what with all that had happened in D.C…" She trailed off and ran a hand through her hair.

"Anyway," she said. "I took him home, patched him up. I observed him for a week, watched his health and assessed his memory and mental status. He seemed pretty normal functioning, had memory issues and obvious temper issues… He told me he was called the Winter Solder. I call him Soldier for short. He told me he was an assassin, he'd lost his memories, and that _you _told him you knew him. He wants to recover his memories so…well, I basically got him hacked into HYDRA's files and we printed out all the files we could on him. And then we decided to come find you."

Steve Rogers stared at her incredulously. "You mean to tell me Bucky's been staying with you for the last week? Where was he before that? I've been—I've been searching down leads, I couldn't find anything…"

"To the best of my knowledge, he was wandering in the woods," explained Ari. "Anyway…the thing is, he didn't want to see you at first. You have to understand this, Mr. Rogers—"

"Steve," interrupted Steve. "Call me Steve."

"Okay, _Steve_," said Ari, looking a bit awkward. "You have to understand that you're a huge trigger for Soldier. He's been having memory flashbacks but they always make him physically sick. Your memory, your face, your name—they make him anxious and they put him on the edge. He's not being mind controlled anymore but he's still not healthy, physically _or _mentally. He's stressed out. I convinced him to come and meet you because he wants answers, he wants to remember who James Barnes was…but you can't _push _him. He's my patient. If you push him too far, he'll close up and he'll panic."

"I understand," said Steve but he looked extremely impatient. "When can I see him? I promise I won't overload him. I just—I need to see my best friend."

"One more thing," cautioned Ari. "You see him as your best friend. And he _has _had memories of you two being friends. But he's not Bucky Barnes, Steve. He's not the man you remember. You can't expect him to be Bucky or to act like him or remember you well. Don't be disappointed if the man you meet isn't what you expect. Soldier's different now. Okay?"

"Got it," said Steve. Ari must have glared at him because he chuckled slightly and held his hands up. "Seriously, nurse—I understand," and the Winter Soldier bit back a slight smile because he had seen Alex be on the receiving end of Ari's furious glares and they weren't fun.

"He's here now," said Ari softly. "He wants to meet you but you need to be careful. Should I bring him out?"

The Winter Soldier's stomach tightened.

"Yes," said Steve, looking around as if he expected to see the Winter Soldier pouncing out of a bush. The Winter Soldier supposed it wasn't too far a stretch to make. After all, the last time they'd fought, he'd appeared out of nowhere several times. He was good at that.

"Sit down," ordered Ari, pointing to the bench. The Winter Solder quickly silently slid to the other side of the tree so Steve wouldn't see him when he sat down. He sat with his back against the tree, staring into nothingness, trying to control his breathing. He had his memories. He had the Smithsonian exhibit, which backed up what Steve had said. He had Ari. He didn't know who Bucky Barnes was, but he could do this. He could figure it out. He could put the pieces together. HYDRA didn't own him anymore.

"Soldier." Ari's voice was gentle at his ear as she knelt near him. "Come on. It's time." She held out her hand and the Winter Soldier grasped it, despite his usual reluctance to have any human contact, and he got to his feet and walked out from behind the tree. Ari stepped away from him and crossed her arms, watching.

Steve looked at him in shock, not having realized the Winter Soldier had been so close by this whole time. He made as if to stand but Ari held up a hand and motioned for him to sit down. The Winter Soldier slowly made his way over to the bench and for a moment he and Steve stared at each other. And then Steve stood up and quietly said, "Bucky," and took a step forward—to what? Hug him? The Winter Soldier uneasily took a step back and Steve also took a step back, abashed.

"Sorry," he said. "Your nurse—Ari—she told me to take it slow."

"Yeah," said the Winter Soldier, not knowing what else to say. "I wanted…to meet you. We knew each other," he said. It wasn't a question but he was looking at Steve with questions in his eyes.

"Yes," said Steve, relieved that the Winter Soldier wasn't pulling out a knife and stabbing him this time. "Yeah, we did. You were my best friend, Buck. I know…" He ran a hand through his blond hair, looking a bit sad. "I know you don't remember any of that, but I'll answer any questions you have. I want you to remember."

"I remember some of it," said the Winter Soldier quietly. "I had a memory—you were getting beat up…you were smaller. I helped you."

To his surprise, Steve chuckled. "That could have been any of the hundred times that happened. I was a weakling as a kid. You got me out of fights more times than I can count."

Steve Rogers had been a weakling? This surprised the Winter Soldier. Looking at the size of the man now, he would have never guessed that the man had originally been so skinny and small.

"Where do you want to start?" asked Steve. He sat on the bench and then patted the bench. "Here, why don't you sit—"

Ari had kept her distance up until now but she approached them and said, "Wait, I don't think Soldier should stay out in the open."

"Why do you keep calling him _Soldier_?" asked Steve.

"That's what I told her to call me," muttered the Winter Soldier.

"Do you mind if I call you Bucky?" asked Steve. The Winter Soldier actually did mind but he didn't know how to say that. So he shook his head and Steve looked relieved. Then Steve looked at Ari and said, "HYDRA went down."

"HYDRA is still around and you know that," said Ari. "They're just in-hiding. But even if HYDRA isn't a big threat right now, Soldier kind of destroyed parts of D.C. a few weeks ago. Some citizen might recognize him. He looks pretty much the same."

"Fine," said Steve, standing up. "We can go back to my place."

The Winter Soldier tensed up a little at this but when he looked at Ari for confirmation, he realized with shock that she was looking to _him _for confirmation. He'd mistakenly assumed that she would tell him if it was a good idea or not—but it looked like she was leaving it up to him. He squared his shoulders and said, "Fine."

"Let's go," said Steve. "I rode a motorcycle here, but I assume you guys have a car?"

"I do," said Ari. "I can follow you."

"Meet me on the street right in front of the mall," said Steve and then he jogged away, gaining speed as he ran to wherever he had parked his motorcycle. Ari took off in the direction of the car and the Winter Soldier followed, easily outpacing her hurried strides quickly. They hurried down the street, got into her car, and she did a U-turn on the street, heading back in the direction and parking right in front of the mall. She nervously looked at her watch and said, "I hope Steve hurries, I don't want a cop to st—" but _just _then a motorcycle roared to a stop in front of them. Steve was wearing a black leather jacket and a helmet and he motioned for them to follow and then took off. Ari pulled out and tailed him through the streets of Washington D.C. until they were driving through a semi-residential area. As they passed the brick buildings, the Winter Soldier closed his eyes. He remembered this area. He had hidden in the building across the street from Steve's apartment and shot Nick Fury through the window.

To his surprise, however, they passed the apartment building that he'd shot Nick Fury in and drove on for several more blocks, passing through the community until they came to a different community right next door that was full of townhomes instead of apartment complexes. Steve pulled up to a small pale blue townhome and parked his motorcycle in the small garage that held nothing else except a refrigerator.

They got out of the car and followed Steve inside through the garage door. Steve smacked the button before they entered, the garage sliding shut behind them. As they entered the house, the Winter Soldier looked around…and deduced nothing. He was good at analyzing situations and people based on the subtle clues they gave off but Steve's house said absolutely nothing. It was furnished in a very generic, semi-modern way and was very plain. Neutral tan sofas, a TV, white appliances. Only a few random paintings of generic landscapes hung on the wall and the Winter Solder noticed a wilting vase of flowers dying on the counter. Steve noticed him looking at it and said, "Oh, that… Yeah, Natasha brought these here. Said my house needed some character. I guess I forgot to feed them."

Ari looked a bit amused and said, "You don't _feed_ flowers. You water them." Steve let out a small laugh and, to the Winter Soldier's immense confusion, Ari turned a bit pink in the face and looked away distractedly. What was going on?

"Okay, so this…this is my place," said Steve, gesturing to it. "Do you want something to drink?"

"No," said the Winter Soldier.

"Soldier, you need to keep hydrated," murmured Ari. "Otherwise the nausea and headaches will be more frequent and will feel worse. You haven't had water at all today."

"Fine, water," said the Winter Soldier.

Steve gave the two of them a semi-curious glance but got the Winter Soldier a glass of water. The Winter Soldier watched him get it from the fridge carefully, to make sure it wasn't poisoned or drugged in any way.

Steve sat down at the table and the Winter Solder sat down at the opposite end, feeling awkward. He sipped the water even though he wasn't thirsty and the action felt extremely obnoxious, as did the slurping noise he made. He wiped his wet mouth and pushed the glass away. It left droplets of water on the table. Steve was staring at him very intensely, as if mentally _willing _him to regain all his memories right away, and it made the Winter Soldier irritated. "What are you staring at?" he finally demanded.

"Sorry, it's just—it's _you_, Bucky," said Steve, sounding awed. "I can't…I can't explain how this feels. I thought I lost you. I thought you died… I…" He suddenly looked up at Ari. She stared back at him for a moment and it was as if they were communicating silently and then Ari loudly asked, "May I use your bathroom?" in a pleasant voice.

"Upstairs to the left," said Steve in an equally loud and pleasant voice. Ari vanished up the stairs and the Winter Soldier noted that there was a bathroom downstairs next to the kitchen.

There was silence for a moment and then Steve continued, his voice more quiet now. "It was bad enough back in those days, when I thought you were dead. But I didn't have to live with that for long. I was in battle and then I got myself frozen in ice too. I woke up over seventy years later…"

The Winter Soldier had never thought about it this way. He'd never thought about the fact that Steve had gone through almost the same thing he had. Well, not almost the _same_…but similar in certain ways. He traced a finger through a water droplet on the table and met Steve's eyes. "I was frozen too. Except they froze me in cryo a lot."

"Cryo," repeated Steve.

"Yeah." A suppressed shudder went down the Winter Soldier's spine. "It's awful. I did it because I didn't know any other way. I thought it was normal for me. I didn't like it, though, and I could feel it. I could feel myself suffocating."

Steve rubbed his eyes and said, "Oh, Buck," in a low voice. Then he looked at the Winter Soldier and said, "Why don't you tell me your whole story? And then I'll tell you my story. My story is longer. I've known you my whole life."

The Winter Soldier had never told anyone his whole story, not even Ari. He'd never even really known his whole story. The mind wipes kept blurring things in his head. They'd acted like forcible tape, wrapping tight layers across his memories, pushing them further and further down in his mind until he couldn't retrieve them anymore. But the tape was slowly being ripped and peeled off and things were coming back to him, especially things about his time as the Winter Soldier assassin. It felt somewhat like a dream—he'd been so robotic—but it also felt like yesterday.

He opened his mouth and began to speak. His voice was quiet at first but then it grew a little louder and more confident when he noticed Steve was listening intently. The Winter Soldier couldn't see but Ari was sitting on the stairs around the corner, arms wrapped around her knees, listening as well. He spoke and spoke and spoke. He spoke about his memories of waking up on a gurney. About realizing he had a cybernetic arm. About being injected with serums and tested. About being forced to strap on machines and train. About being observed 24/7 by scientists. About sleeping in a plain room with a cot with machines and needles stuck into his arm and chest. About being forced back into that god awful chair after every mission, clamping his teeth down onto the plastic piece intended to keep him from biting his tongue off. About the pain when the electrical waves began to pound in his brain. About the memories and his vision going dark and fuzzy, floating away out of his grasp. About stepping back into a chamber, crossing his arms, closing his eyes and going to "sleep"—even though he could feel the cold penetrate every single cell inside his body. He never stopped feeling. He spoke about being woken up, being tested, feeling disoriented and being handed sheets and maps and photos of new targets and locations. Being trained and trained again. Riding in cars, jumping out of cars, crouching on balconies and roofs for hours. Pulling the trigger and never missing. Clamping his hands around someone's throat and squeezing. Throwing smoke grenades and vanishing into the smoke. Being hustled back to HYDRA's headquarters. Answering questions. More questions. Ranking his pain, his hunger, his mental status on a scale of zero to ten. Having his memories wiped. Being put back in cryo. Waking up and the world was different yet again. Thrust out into the world and hunting down people like they were prey.

"They told me I was a gift," he whispered, unable to look Steve in the eye. "They told me I was changing the world. They told me I was their most valuable asset. That didn't mean much to me, but it was all I had. It was all I knew. I didn't even know I was a person."

They couldn't see her, but around the corner, a tear slowly slid down Ari's face and she buried her face into her knees. Her hands trembled.

The Winter Soldier's hands were trembling too when he picked up the glass of water and he took another unnecessary gulp. He blinked and then looked at Steve, who looked equal parts horrified and shocked and extremely angry. "I want to know who I am," he said. "I want to know who I was. You're the only person who can help. I have files on myself."

"I have files, too," said Steve.

The Winter Solder looked at him in shock and then said, "All my files? From since the war?"

"Well—no," said Steve. "I only have a small file… Why, how much do you have?"

"All of them," said the Winter Soldier. "But they're in code. I need to break into HYDRA to get them de-coded. Ari thought you could help."

"How did you even get those files?"

The Winter Soldier hesitated. He harbored absolutely no love for Alex and would have willingly sold him out if he needed to—but Alex was related to Ari and he didn't know if he wanted it to be common knowledge that Ari had helped him break into HYDRA's files. It was unnecessary danger. If she _needed _to be put in danger, he'd do it, but this wasn't needed. "Someone helped us," he said finally. "They're gone now."

Steve raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Instead he said, "Speaking of…Ari. Who is she to you? I didn't expect you to randomly find shelter with a regular person. Is she…?"  
"Is she?" continued the Winter Soldier, not sure what Steve was getting at.

Steve cleared his throat. "Is she, you know, is she like some sort of special friend?"

Now the Winter Soldier got it. Steve thought Ari was to him exactly what those teenage girls had thought. Was it impossible, he wondered, for a male and a female to be in company without people wondering this? "She's a friend," he said. "She's my nurse."

"Okay," said Steve. "That's…yeah. Yeah. That's fine. Should we, you know, send her home? Now that you're here?"

The Winter Soldier hesitated. He should have said yes. What need was there for Ari to be here now? She'd done all she could. But strangely enough, he didn't feel like sending her away. Luckily for him, he didn't have to answer. Ari turned the corner, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, and said, "Uh uh. There's no way I'm going anywhere. Soldier is my patient. I'm seeing him through to the end of this." The Winter Soldier noticed her eyes were slightly red and wondered why. They hadn't been red before.

Steve looked at her and seriously said, "It'll be dangerous, ma'am."

Ari blushed slightly and said, "Um, you don't have to call me _ma'am_…though it is charming, I'll admit. You can call me Ari. And I know it'll be dangerous. I don't really care."

"Alright," said Steve, shrugging. He looked at the Winter Soldier again and the Winter Soldier felt uncomfortable. Steve looked so intense, almost like he was in pain, and then he abruptly stood up and said, "I'm going to to tell you about Bucky Barnes, right? You want that?"

"Yeah," said the Winter Soldier.

"Lucky for you, I managed to find some of my old photo albums and schoolboy stuff," he said. He paused and his tone took on a somber note. "Someone from my past—_our _past—saved them for me when they came home from the war and I didn't."

"Who was it?" asked the Winter Soldier curiously. There was another person who shared their past? Would he recognize them as well?

"Peggy Carter." Steve spoke her name quietly and there was clearly suppressed emotion behind it. Ari looked a little stunned, like she was intruding on a private moment, and she looked away, as if trying to give Steve some privacy. Steve looked at him and asked, "Do you remember her? Agent Peggy Carter?"

_Dark hair. Red lips. Self-assured smile. _

_ "What are we waiting for?" he asked._

_ She paused and then looked at him and he felt a bit taken back. No woman had ever looked at him this way—with complete cool indifference and disinterest. Not in an unkind way; simply in a way that said he wasn't the one she would ever look at. "The right partner," she said quietly, looking at Steve with an expression that clearly meant something, and then she was walking away and he was watching her go, glancing at his friend who was now in the spotlight, and he felt a bit unsure of himself. _

The Winter Soldier pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and squeezed them shut, trying to push the pain away. His stomach roiled a little bit and he realized that his mostly empty stomach (the breakfast had not been nearly enough food) made the nausea worse. "She rejected me," he heard himself say in a voice that sounded a bit distant. He opened his eyes to see Ari gaping at him—possibly at him acknowledging the fact that he used to be comfortable around women, because he certainly wasn't now—and repeated, "She said something about…me not being the right partner?"

Steve gave a smile, though it seemed a bit pained. Was the memory a painful one for him too? Why? It had been clear she'd rejected him for Steve. Had they had a fight over her? "Good," said Steve. "You remember her, a little bit. I have my photo albums and things—but they're in a storage facility a few blocks away. Will you stay here while I go get them?"

The Winter Soldier nodded and Steve shrugged on a jacket. Before leaving, he turned and urgently said, "_Don't_ disappear on me." There was a slightly panicked look to his eye and it suggested that Bucky Barnes disappearing on his friend for the third time would ruin the man who was standing in front of him.

"I won't," said the Winter Soldier hoarsely. The garage door slammed shut and the house fell into silence.

He and Ari sat there in silence for a moment and then he asked, "How much of my story did you hear?"

Ari folded her arms and tilted her chair back, looking at the ceiling and biting her lip. "All of it," she admitted. "Sorry, I couldn't help but…" She looked at the Winter Soldier and he could see sadness in her blue-eyed gaze. Really, her eyes were even bluer than Steve Rogers'. "You never told me about any of that," she said quietly. "About all the stuff HYDRA did to you. I never imagined…I never imagined you went through that. And you've been going through it for decades…my god. This makes the stuff I went through seem like such petty garbage."

"You have your own story," he said. "I have mine." Ari still looked sad and he supposed he ought to comfort her, but he had nothing to say. There was no comfort. She was right. He'd been through horrors that she would never know. But her struggles had been difficult too, in their own way. He wanted to let her know that but he didn't know how so he changed the subject and said, "Why do you turn pink when Steve talks to you?"

She turned pink then too. "What?" she protested. "I do not—"

"You do," he said bluntly. A sudden thought struck him. "You said I wasn't your type. Is _he _your type?"

"Look at you suddenly getting chatty," she said, rubbing her arms self-consciously. He recognized it as a self-defense mechanism. "Always so silent but now you can't stop, huh?"

Now she knew how he felt when she questioned him on relationships. Still, he persisted and asked, "Is he?"

"No," she said. "I mean, yes—I mean no—I mean… He's not, like, my _type_! I'm not in love with him or anything. Don't get the wrong idea. But he's Captain America, okay? I realize you didn't hear much about him during your…time out in the world. But he's a big deal here, he's famous. He saved New York and probably the world with the Avengers and he saved D.C. a few weeks ago. And he's easy on the eyes and charming to boot, too, so yeah, I get a little flustered around him. Sue me." She was blushing again. The Winter Soldier decided to let the subject drop since it was getting a bit awkward for him too now.

They sat in silence for a bit and then Ari asked, "Have you felt any more sickness? Any more flashbacks?"

"Both," he said. "But the sickness…is getting better. I think."

"That's good," she said encouragingly. "I'm not sure how exactly HYDRA erased your memories…but it seems to me that they repressed them. They covered them up and kept covering them. Suppression is an easier and more realistic technique than actually erasing memories. The problem with suppression is, it needs to be continuously maintained, since the memories are always there and your mind is always fighting to regain control of itself. Now that HYDRA isn't putting you in the"—her voice hitched a bit—"_chair_, it seems like your memories are re-surfacing. But it'll be a painful process."

"It already is," he told her.

"How did being in the chair make you feel?" she asked softly. "Was it painful?"

He leveled her with a solid gaze. The truth was that having his memories suppressed had felt like the worst torture on Earth. The truth would shock her. But the Winter Solder didn't care about protecting her feelings; he didn't work that way. He still hadn't built up enough empathy to care about things like that. He wouldn't coddle anyone. "It hurt," he said slowly, "like they were setting my brain on fire. It felt like someone was digging my brain out with a knife. Like I was being ripped apart."

Ari looked pale but her face remained steady and composed, though he noticed that her fist clenched, the blue veins in her forearm suddenly standing out a little more. She held her head up high, pointing her chin up a bit, and stared at him with a piercing gaze. "But you handled it, didn't you, Soldier? You're the consummate survivor. You didn't lose yourself." She sounded like she was reassuring herself as much as she was reassuring him.

"I am," he said hoarsely, almost to himself, looking down at his hands. One flesh, one silver. He'd survived this far. He'd done it. HYDRA had stolen his mind but they hadn't won. He was getting his mind back. He looked up and coughed, clearing his throat, and stared at Ari. She stared back at him and it was like the moment was charged. He couldn't explain it but it was as if they were somehow sending messages through their stares. She was afraid, but she was afraid for _him_, he could sense that. And he understood her fear and it was like he was trying to tell her that she didn't need to fear him losing himself again. Their faces were serious and they didn't speak. When had he begun to understand Ari like this? And when had she begun to almost read his mind?

_"You're wrong. You have me. I'm your friend."_

Steve was his friend. Steve was the friend he didn't know. But Ari was a friend, too. Somehow, along the way, she'd become his friend even though he'd distanced himself as much as he could. She understood him on some level that he wasn't sure Steve even did. Ari was the friend he knew. And as of right now, he knew that he needed both Ari and Steve to move on. Was this what being human meant? Having people who knew parts of him that he didn't know himself yet?

The door banged open and Steve entered, carrying a huge box. He looked from Ari to the Winter Soldier, who were still staring at each other, expressions very serious, and said, "Am I missing something?"

"I was just telling Soldier he's a survivor," said Ari. "Don't you think so, Steve?"

"Damn right you are," said Steve, putting the box on the table. "I can't even imagine going through what you did. I would have lost control."

"No, you wouldn't have," said the Winter Soldier. "You're a good man." _I'm not a good man_, he wanted to add. He had survived, he had managed to live through HYDRA's tortures—but he had done it by killing others. Steve would have found a different way. Steve had a goodness in him that the Winter Soldier could sense even now, even after not really remember who Steve Rogers was. Steve would have found a way to resist HYDRA or died trying. Had Bucky Barnes resisted as much? Or had he surrendered easily?

Steve looked like he wanted to argue but catching a meaningful glance from Ari, he changed his mind and said, "I have the photos and some random stuff here. If you want to look through it…?"

The Winter Soldier suddenly felt so exhausted that he felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut. His limbs felt limp and his mouth felt dry from talking and his heart was beating too quickly from divulging so much private information. It felt liberating but it had shocked his system to the core, talking so much about _himself_, when for years he'd been only allowed to operate as a ghost who wasn't really a someone. Who wasn't really anyone.

"Later," he said. "I'm tired. I want to…" He looked at Ari.

She leaped to her feet and bent over him, looking at him, and then she looked at Steve. "He's exhausted. Look at how pale he is. He needs rest."

"I have a spare bedroom upstairs," started Steve but Ari cut him off.

"I think he needs time alone, too," she said. "To come to terms with all this. Remember, you're sort of a trigger for him. I'm going to take him back to the hotel. Is that cool with you, Soldier?"

The Winter Soldier didn't have it in him to argue so he shrugged. He could do that now—he could shrug and it was fine. There didn't have to be any more definitive answers of "Yes," and "No."

Steve wanted to know where they were staying so Ari gave him her phone number and then wrote down the address for him. "We'll be back," she said. "Maybe this evening. I just think Soldier needs to sleep some of this off. We woke up really early, you know, and we're not all super soldiers."

There was an awkward pause in which the Winter Soldier and Steve both looked at her and she chuckled and said, "Okay, _I'm _not a super soldier. But I am a nurse and I'm saying that this much over-excitement is going to take its toll on him. Look at him, he's already white as a sheet."

This was true, the Winter Soldier felt tired and amped up all at once but it also felt like his mind was shorting out. He couldn't speak anymore and he didn't have the stamina to dive right into Bucky Barnes' life. So he got to his feet and looked at Steve, unsure of what to do. Hug the man? That was a solid hell no. The Winter Soldier didn't willingly touch people. He settled for hesitantly holding his hand out and Steve shook it in a firm grasp.

"Thanks," he muttered. "For…you know, hearing me out. And getting this stuff for me." He gestured to the box.

"Any time, Bucky," said Steve, looking serious. "I told you before—I'm with you till the end of the line."

A dull throb started up in the Winter Soldier's head as he remembered that day on the helicarrier—the day his entire worldview and existence had been shattered when he realized that he _did _somehow know this man, that he somehow _did _have a past, that there was something connecting him to someone on this Earth—and he gave one last look at Steve's bare, somewhat sad townhome and followed Ari out to the car silently.

He needed to close his eyes and not think about this for a while. He needed to vanish into his own mind. He needed to take some time to come to terms with all of this. Luckily for him, he was going to be able to do all that. The idea felt reassuring. He closed his eyes as Ari drove through the streets, her window down, and the warm summer air blew into the car and the Winter Soldier felt a little like the endless cold he had always felt inside him was thawing a little bit.


	7. Chapter 7

_Note: Hi, guys. So I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm heading into my last few weeks of school and the exams, papers, and projects are all piling up! I'll try to update as frequently as I can but if my updates are a little slow to come, please bear with me! I promise as soon as school is over, I'll be updating frequently like I normally do. And thanks again for reading! _

As soon as the Winter Soldier entered the hotel room, he hit the bed and fell asleep. He didn't know if it was waking up so early in the morning or if it was meeting Steve Rogers, but he was extremely exhausted and he knocked out right away. The last thing he remembered seeing through his blurry side-view gaze was seeing Ari also drop onto her bed. Then his eyes drifted shut and he slept.

When he woke up, the sky outside had darkened a bit. They'd come home early in the morning, around nine or ten, but now it seemed like it was late afternoon. He slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes and stared at the sky. It was turning a deeper blue, a beautiful blue. He slid off his bed, his throat feeling scratchy and eyes feeling a bit sandy, and stretched, looking at Ari. She'd collapsed on top of her bed, not even bothering to get under the blankets, and was still knocked out, one hand dangling over the edge of the bed. He turned away and decided to get washed up, taking a shower and changing into black track pants and a black pullover sweatshirt. All black it was again. Oh well—he looked "badass", right?

When he got out, Ari was still asleep, so he decided to leave for a little while. He opened her bag sitting on the table, completely unaware of the fact that it was rude to go through a woman's purse, and stuffed fifty bucks from her wallet and the keycard for the room into his pocket. He wasn't stealing—he'd pay her back for all of this when this was all over, he reasoned with himself in his mind. He wasn't exactly sure _how_, since it's not like he could get a regular day job, but he'd find a way to pay his debt to Ari.

He shut the door quietly and left, after pulling on the baseball hat that Ari had bought him. He passed a few family-type of people in the hallways, wearing tacky t-shirts and white sneakers and fanny-packs around their waists, arguing with each other over where to go for the day, and ducked his head down as he passed them. It was as if the moment moved in slow motion—he moved past them like a shadow, hands in his pockets, eyes on the ground. The people would never remember him, and even if they did, they'd never know that one of the most dangerous men on Earth had just walked past them like it was nothing.

_I could kill all these people_, he thought to himself as he stepped outside and observed random people getting in and out of cars in the parking lot. He flexed his cybernetic hand inside the pouch pocket on the front of his sweatshirt and then shook his head and kept walking. He could—but he wouldn't. He wouldn't do that anymore, not unless he had to.

He actually had no idea where he was going, but he needed to stretch his legs a bit so he kept walking down the street. He passed across the street from the McDonald's that Ari was constantly bringing food from but he didn't go inside. He'd never been a fan of burgers, even back in the olden days.

_Wait_. He stopped in his tracks, shocked. Where had that thought come from? He'd just remembered a food preference of Bucky Barnes'—and he'd thought about it in a fluid, singular sense, as if _he _remembered being Bucky Barnes who didn't really like burgers. What did this mean? Were his memories returning properly? Was he regaining Bucky?

Someone bumped into him roughly and snapped, "Keep moving, asshole!" He looked up slowly, eyes narrowed, to see a portly man in a black business suit stomping down the street. The urge to grab the man by the back of his neck and slam him into the ground until he crushed his spine overwhelmed the Winter Soldier for a moment—but then the man was gone and so was the urge.

Control. He would have to control this. He couldn't afford to lose it, not now that he was so close to getting all the answers he needed.

He kept walking and ended up going around the block, looking mostly at the ground but peering up every now and then and carefully observing the world around him. He'd never much paid attention to culture every time he was taken out of cryo, but even he could vaguely remember the differences in the world every time he was taken out. Women wore pants a lot more now and they wore less clothing. Men didn't dress as well. The world was faster, noisier, and people were glued to their cell phones. He saw some groups of teenagers huddled on the steps of brownstones, laughing and talking and staring at girls who walked past, and it made him have a sudden flashback of youths from his own days, dressed in tweed coats, hair slicked back, watching girls pass by on the street. People hadn't really changed _that _much. It was only that these kids now all had a cell phone in their hands.

He stopped at a crosswalk and stood there, looking both ways, wondering which way to go. He zoned out for a bit, staring absentmindedly at the space in between both roads and a voice next to him said, "Are you lost?"

He looked over to see a teenage girl staring at him. She wasn't giggling like the ones from the hotel. She wore paint-splattered skinny jeans, a black t-shirt that said SWS on it, and had blonde hair that was streaked with bright blue. She looked like some sort of brightly colored character from a comic book and he could only stare for a moment before mumbling, "No."

"Are you sure?" she asked, looking concerned. "You've been standing here for ten minutes, staring into space. If you need me to call someone for you—" She reached out a hand to touch him and he jumped back as if he'd been burned. "I said _no_!" The words burst from his mouth, more harshly than he intended, and he immediately wished he could take them back—but the damage was done. An angry look had flashed across the girl's eyes and she said, "Okay, _sorry_ for trying to help," and then she turned and walked down the street.

The Winter Soldier closed his eyes. Dealing with people after so long was so hard. Why was dealing with Ari so easy? Or was it just that Ari only pretended to be nice to him and put on a good show? Perhaps she was exasperated with him too. Perhaps she was faking being nice to him, for some reason. It was unnatural, wasn't it, how kind she always was?

For some reason, the thought made him angry and he turned around and hurried back to the hotel, his strides getting faster and angrier with every step. He didn't know what he was so angry about but he could feel the anger bubbling up inside of him like water boiling over on the stove. He hurried into the hotel and almost raced to their hotel room, stabbing the keycard into the slot and stomping in, slamming the door shut. Ari was folding some clothes on the bed—she'd changed into new clothes—and she looked up when she came in and frowned in slight disapproval and said, "I wish you'd asked before you took my keycard and money. I would have said yes to letting you take them, you know. You don't have to sneak things."

He waited for her to scold him further but she didn't. He scowled and then said, "What? That's it?"

She looked up from the shirt she was folding. "What's it?"

"That's _all _you're going to say?" he demanded. "Just 'I wish you'd asked'? I stole your money. I went through your bag. I left the room."

Ari raised an eyebrow and gave him a strange look, as if she wasn't sure what he was trying to get at. "I don't think what you did warrants me being so angry—"

"You're an idiot," he snapped, the words coming out of nowhere. "You should be yelling at me. Why aren't you yelling at me?"

Her expression changed to one of slight sympathy and she moved towards him, gently saying, "Soldier, I don't—" but he reached out and _shoved _her, so hard that she staggered back and fell onto her bed, and yelled, "DON'T COME NEAR ME!" Her face was pale when she looked at him in shock and he backed away, breathing heavily, feeling dizzy with anger and horror. "You make me sick," he said, almost babbling in his rush to get the words out. "You make me _sick_. Always being so nice to me, never yelling at me—what's wrong with you? I'm not the one who has problems, _you _have problems. Stay away from me." And then he turned and left, wrenching the door open and rushing down the hall, feeling almost blind.

_What have I done?_

He hurried down the stairs and burst through the door of the side entrance to the parking lot, looking around wildly for where he could escape to. There was a small little park behind the hotel, with some paths that led into the trees, so he took off in that direction, walking fast at first and then jogging and then breaking into a full-on sprint. The park was small, just a tiny little leisure park with a green common, a small duck pond, and a small thicket of trees, so he didn't get to go far. He was so blind with his rage that he punched a small tree, putting his entire weight behind it, and kept punching until the tiny tree cracked and splintered in half. Backing away, breathing heavily, he ended up lowering himself onto the bench in front of the pond and covered his face with his hands. He was still furious but he was also confused. Why had he done that? And genuinely, _what _was wrong with Ari? Why was she so kind?

He sat there for a few minutes and then he felt someone silently approach and sit down next to him, on the far end of the bench. He didn't uncover his face or look at them. They sat there in silence for a long time. The minutes ticked by and ten minutes turned into fifteen and then fifteen turned into twenty and then twenty turned into thirty. And then, very quietly, he said, "Why are you so nice to me? What gain is there for you?"

"There's no gain," she said simply.

"Then _why_?" he demanded, taking a deep breath. "I don't—I'm not—"

"Soldier, you lashed out at me," said Ari. "But this isn't a movie. This isn't a movie where you yell at me and I lash out and say 'Fine, then we'll never see each other again!' and we storm away and spend a few miserable days apart and then meet up again to apologize. The world doesn't work that way. You can't push me away like that. I won't be so easily pushed away." She laughed to herself. "Who do you think I am?"

"I don't—I don't deserve—" His words were a whisper.

"You do," said Ari quietly. "You had your moment of anger. You don't understand why I'm being so kind to you. You don't think you deserve my kindness. You think you deserve my hate, for the things you've done. So you lashed out, hoping to _make _me hate you. You wanted to _force _me to hate you, so you could finally feel good about feeling miserable about yourself. But I'm not that weak. I'm actually insulted that you think I'd be such a drama queen that I'd hate you just because you were hurt and got angry."

He lowered his hands and looked at her, unable to speak. She looked at him and her expression was very serious. "I let you have your moment of self-pity. God knows you deserve it. You were made to do horrible things and you feel lost. But I won't let you think you deserve to be hated. I won't let you think you can make me hate you. _Nobody _can make me do anything, not even you, Soldier. You may be a hundred times stronger than me, but you can't force me to hate you or to stop helping you."

The Winter Soldier didn't know what to say. His throat felt blocked up. She wasn't faking it. She truly cared, for some demented reason. And he couldn't push her away. It would have been _so _easy for her to let him push her away, to let him walk away, and then he'd be at peace with hating himself forever. But that was the easy way out, wasn't it? That was the coward's route. She was forcing himself to admit that she truly cared and that he deserved it. He still didn't think he deserved her attention like this, but a part of him—a part that he'd never show to anyone, a part that felt like a small child—was so selfishly happy that she wasn't giving up on him because of his actions that he _almost _felt like he might cry. (Almost, but not quite. The Winter Soldier never cried.)

"I'm sorry for pushing you," was all he could say.

"You're damn right you are," said Ari, smiling. He stared at her, incredulous that she was being nice even over _this_—he'd pushed her very hard—and she sighed and said, "Soldier, this isn't me being a weakling. This is just my personality. I forgive and forget. I move on. That's just who I am. Except with Alex, of course," she added with a snort. She stood up and crossed her arms. "Are you going to punish me for being who I am? I can handle who _you _are. Can you say the same for me?"

Her expression was challenging. He ran his real hand through his hair, feeling thoroughly mixed up, but he stood up anyway and said, "I can handle it."

"Good," said Ari. "Then let's consider this a growing exercise for you. I suppose you had to let out anger eventually, god knows you must have enough of it. Here's an idea. Next time you feel this angry, try to take a few deep breaths. Count to ten. Write about it. I know the idea seems stupid, but journaling actually does help. You can rip up the papers after if you want. Or if that's not your cup of tea, go punch a pillow or something."

"I…already did," he said, gesturing to the broken tree a few feet away. "Sort of." He self-consciously rubbed his hand against his face, hand scratching the stubble on his face.

Ari's mouth fell open and she stared at the tree. "That poor tree!" she said. "What did it ever do to you? And it had so much to live for!"

"Shut up," he mumbled, now feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

"I'm kidding, Soldier," she said. She looked at the time on her phone and then said, "Let's go. It's almost six p.m. We have to go meet Steve again." She gently nudged him. "He's going to show you your old photos. You ready for that?"

_No_. The word wouldn't leave his mouth—it was like his jaws had been glued shut with peanut butter.

"I mean, I sort of remember seeing how you looked," said Ari almost to herself, "from the Smithsonian—"

"You saw that?" he interrupted.

"Yeah, I visited last summer," she said. "I admit, I didn't pay much attention to the Bucky Barnes section…no offense but I was more fascinated with Captain America. But you looked like a good guy, too. You and Steve were best friends."

_"I'm with you till the end of the line!"_

There was a strange faraway look on Ari's face that the Winter Soldier couldn't place and he slowly asked, "Do _you _have a best friend?" It had just occurred to him that he hadn't seen or heard Ari mention any friends at all. It had taken him this long to realize this—since he wasn't in the habit of taking notice of peoples' personal lives—but didn't normal humans have some type of friends? Hell, even _he_, an age-old mind-wiped assassin, had managed to find a friend or two from somewhere.

"I did," said Ari briskly. "They're gone now." The Winter Soldier could tell by her tone that something had happened to her best friend, but he wasn't sure he wanted to get into that. Ari was looking at him with something like hope in her eyes but when he awkwardly said, "Well, let's go back," without asking her about her best friend, disappointment flashed in her eyes for just a second and she turned away, saying, "Yeah. We need to eat."

They stopped at a Chipotle down the street this time ("I can't handle any more McDonald's," announced Ari. "It's driving me insane.") and the Winter Soldier picked at his burrito, wondering what the actual hell he was eating—it tasted good but it was so odd—and then Ari's phone suddenly starting ringing non-stop. She swallowed her last bite hastily and answered the phone. "Hello? Oh, Steve—yeah, we're—oh…oh, okay… Yeah, I get it. Um, is it going to be dangerous? Because I don't think… Right. Okay. You're sure, though, right? …Okay. Got it. Sorry. Yeah, no, I mean… Okay. We're coming."

She hung up and said, "Let's get rolling, Soldier."

"What did Steve say?" he asked.

"To get over to his place ASAP," she said. "He wants you to be there before—well, he's invited a friend over later tonight. And he wants you to be there before _they _get there, so he has a chance to explain to them who you are without any issues."

The Winter Soldier had a feeling he knew who this "friend" was. He slowly ran his hand alongside the barrel of the gun that hung from his belt loop on his left side. He might actually need it, if this "friend" launched straight into attack and Steve couldn't stop them. He didn't want to hurt Ari or Steve, but this person…well, if he had to hurt them, he definitely would.

They pulled up at Steve's house and the garage was open, waiting for them. The Winter Soldier shut the garage on their way in. They encountered a huge mess when they walked in. The kitchen table was absolutely covered with photos and random papers and objects. Steve was bent over them, straightening things into stacks. He looked up when they came in and his expression lit up when the Winter Soldier walked in. "You're back!"

The Winter Soldier wasn't used to being greeted with happiness, wasn't used to people _missing _him (generally, people tended to try and run away when he showed up anywhere…not that they were successful). "Uh, yeah," he said, raising an arm and waving slightly. "Hi."

"What's all this?" Ari asked, bending over the table as well. "Oh! Old photos?"

"Yeah," said Steve, standing back and looking at it all. "I've spent the whole day trying to organize them. I actually never realized how much Peggy had saved…"

"You didn't look at any of these in the past three years?" asked Ari.

"Not really," said Steve. "What was the point dwelling in the past? Everyone I knew was dead or had forgotten me…" His voice trailed off and he looked at the Winter Soldier and smiled slightly. "Except you're back now." He gestured to the table. "Go ahead and take a look. I've tried to organize things by year. The oldest stuff is back here—some of it isn't even connected to you, but I don't know, I thought maybe seeing some stuff from the 40's would jog your memory. Like this bunny I won at a carnival when we were five. Remember that? Eh, probably not…" Steve continued to slowly point out things and mention little stories about them while the Winter Soldier watched and listened. Ari had taken a seat at the end of the table and she was paying close attention too.

"Is any of this working?" asked Steve, looking at the Winter Soldier. "Do you remember anything?"

"Considering I feel like vomiting all over your floor, yes, it's working," the Winter Soldier said dryly. His stomach felt nauseous and his head was spinning a little but that was because he was getting flashes and flickers of memories. Steve's words were different than just looking up pictures of the 1940's online. Steve's words painted pictures, memories, in his head that seemed real. He remembered sitting in school and throwing a pencil at a girl's head. He remembered being at some carnival, though he was older than five. He remembered holding some girl's sweaty hand at a school dance. He remembered laying bed and looking at the drawings of pirates and sailors he'd drawn on his roof as a child and talking with Steve, who was laying on a makeshift bed of blankets on the ground next to his bed. Steve slept over often and they usually spent the whole night talking.

"I remember," he said hollowly. "I remember…a lot. But not enough."

"Still!" said Steve encouragingly. "That's good progress! Take a look at this one, Bucky." He thrust a photo into the Winter Soldier's hand. It was _him_—except he was younger, much younger, about sixteen, and he was standing with Steve and there was also a woman smiling in the photo and they were standing in front of a birthday cake.

"Your birthday," said Steve. "Sorry, I forgot which one."

"Count the candles," said Ari.

"Oh," said Steve, looking surprised. "Oh yeah."

The Winter Soldier counted the candles. "My fifteenth birthday," he said in a strange voice, looking at the photo. He was gangly then, hadn't grown into his body or face, but he showed the signs of being very handsome. The woman in the photo resembled him. His stomach dipped a little. _My mother_. He only had vague memories of her…she had dark hair and smiled a lot. She had a lovely smile, people used to…

"Tell me I had her smile," he murmured to himself, tapping the photo, lost in his own world. Steve and Ari exchanged furtive glances and both of them backed away slightly, walking to the kitchen to give the Winter Soldier a moment of privacy. He didn't even notice them leave, he was too busy lost in his own world, remembering little parts of his past. His head was aching fit to burst but he didn't even care right now; the pain felt good. Let the tape that was smothering his memories be ripped away. Let his mind bleed. He wanted to bleed. He wanted to feel, to remember.

"What do you think?" Steve asked Ari in a low voice in the kitchen.

She hopped up onto the counter and perched there, swinging her legs. "Seems like he's making good progress…" she said slowly. "But I don't want to overload him, you know? His mind is fragile."

"He'll be fine," said Steve dismissively and Ari looked at him doubtfully. It was clear that Steve was so eager to get his friend back that he wasn't aware of the mental damage he could do to him if he pushed him so hard.

"Steve," called the Winter Soldier from behind them. "Who's this?" He pointed to a woman in a photo. She was small, rather skinny, and had blonde hair and a tired but kindly smile. She'd appeared a lot in earlier photos but had vanished eventually.

Steve came over and looked at it and his smile pinched a little. "That was my mother," he explained. "She…died of TB early on. I mean, when we were like teenagers. Close to the war."

The Winter Soldier didn't know what to say. He _never _knew how to comfort people. "I…uh…" he started.

"Wait, wait," interrupted Ari. "I know what he's going to say. _That sucks_." She laughed and the Winter Soldier couldn't help but smile a very tiny bit.

"What, is that like an inside joke or something?" asked Steve. When no one responded, he said, "Never mind… Yeah, Mom died. It was…it was rough, but I got through it. You got me through it. You refused to let me live alone after that. You dragged me to your house to stay the night and for most meals."

The Winter Soldier couldn't reconcile this Bucky Barnes—who basically seemed like a great guy—with the person he'd been for the past few decades. How had HYDRA managed to so effectively erase Bucky to the point where even _now_, after being away from HYDRA's influence, Bucky felt like a ghost to him? He could slightly feel him but he was still so out of his reach.

"That was nice of me," he said uncertainly.

"Yeah, it was," said Steve, fondly staring at the photo of his mother.

They spent the next two hours looking at more photos. Ari spent more time gasping and gaping over 1940's culture—"Look at their clothes!" she kept saying. "I can't believe you guys used to _live _back then! You drove those small, rounded cars!"—and the Winter Soldier spent more time trying to remember faces and names. Some of them came back to him, some of them didn't. He spent a long time looking at the photos of the Howling Commandoes. Yes, he remembered these men. This memory was stronger and it was coming back to him. These had been _his _men. Brave men.

Steve looked up at him and interrupted his reverie by asking, "Bucky…do you remember how you…died?"

The Winter Soldier stiffened. It was like someone had poured a bucket of ice water onto him—everything in him froze. He could swear he almost heard the echo of a scream but he wasn't sure. His heart picked up speed.

"No," he said tightly.

"Steve," said Ari. "Maybe it's not—"

"Are you sure?" insisted Steve. "Try to remember. We were on a train. You were…you were hanging from the train, we were over a bridge…"

Cold. He felt cold. It was spreading in him and he shivered. His stomach clenched and his head gave a sharp spike of pain. The memory was blank but it was slowly clawing at the edges of his mind. Why did he suddenly feel so feverish?

Ari saw his face and urgently said, "STEVE—"

"And then you fell—" continued Steve, his voice and face very urgent.

And then the Winter Soldier _was _falling. He was falling in real life, his vision going black—icy-cold wind ripping at his face, hearing a scream echo, feeling the endless feel of a free-fall—and then he smashed into the ground, his chair knocking over, and curled up, groaning, tears of pain stinging his eyes as his head pounded like someone was hitting it with a white-hot hammer.

"I told you not to push him!" Ari was shouting, though she sounded as if she were underwater, and then gentle yet firm small hands were half-lifting, half-dragging him somewhere… Larger hands joined in and then he was being lifted, lifted up, up onto a metal gurney? No, onto something soft…

The Winter Soldier woke up to see four blue eyes staring at him. For a moment, he thought he was still hallucinating because people had two eyes, not four eyes, so he blinked, trying to make the extra set of eyes go away—but they didn't. And then the faces attached to them came into focus and he realized Steve and Ari were kneeling over him, both of them looking extremely concerned.

"How long was I out?" he asked hoarsely, sitting up and wincing. The pain in his head had receded to a dull throb and he didn't feel too horrible.

"Only like an hour," said Ari anxiously. "I need to check you, okay? Sit still."

He sat still patiently while she palpated his face, his head, inspected his eyes, asked him some questions, checked for soreness, strabismus, any changes in mental status… Finally she leaned back and announced uncertainly, "You seem alright…but it's clear that what Steve said had an effect on you." She glared at him and it was somewhat amusing to see this petite girl glare at Captain America and have Captain America actually looked somewhat afraid. Ari's glare had that effect on people, this much the Winter Soldier had figured out. He was glad she'd never turned that glare on him. He was her patient still, so she wouldn't do that.

"I said I'm sorry, for the hundredth time," he said, looking at the Winter Soldier in remorse. "I just really wanted you to remember. Ari warned me not to push you, but I did. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," said the Winter Soldier awkwardly. It wasn't really fine…he was humiliated and upset at fainting like such a weakling in front of both of them _and _he was angry that this one memory would be locked up so tightly that _this _was the effect it had on him…but what could he do? Yell at Steve? The man was muscular and well-built but right now he looked sort of like a wounded animal and snapping at him would have made the Winter Soldier feel even worse. So he let it go.

Suddenly they heard the sound of the front door opening and footsteps stepping inside. "Got your call," came a female voice, slightly raspy and a bit lower than Ari's higher-pitched voice. "What's the matt—" The woman stepped in view of the family room and froze. For a moment she stared at Steve and Ari crouching near the sofa where the Winter Soldier sat and then she pulled out a gun as quick as a whip and pointed it at the Winter Soldier, clicking off the safety. A look of cold indifference had covered her face and she tightly said, "Steve. Explain. NOW."

"Whoa, Natasha, slow down." Steve leaped to his feet and moved towards her. She whipped out another gun and pointed it at him with her other hand, taking a step back. Suspicion filled her face and the Winter Soldier couldn't quite blame her. He'd tried to kill her twice now.

"Why is _he_ here?" she demanded. "Where did he come from? Are you out of your _mind_, Steve? Does Fury know about this?"

The Winter Soldier blinked. Fury? Nick Fury, the man he had killed? He was alive? Did _anyone _stay dead these days? He slowly got to his feet and Black Widow took another step back, hostility and suspicion radiating off her in palpable waves. The Winter Soldier knew he could take her if he wanted to—she was an expert at fighting but he had his cybernetic arm and super strength and speed—but he hung back, letting Steve do the explaining.

"Natasha," Steve said, his voice ringing throughout the room. "Put the guns down. _Now_. I can explain all of this." The Winter Soldier could see where the man in front of him changed from Steve Rogers—a friendly guy with a smile that wasn't quite as open as it could have been—to Captain America, a leader with a commanding voice that said He Meant Business. He softened his voice a little and said, "He's not with HYDRA anymore. He's been lost and sick and he wants to regain his memories." When Natasha _still _didn't lower her weapons, Steve added, "You of all people should know what's it like to come back from something like this. To be given a second chance. And you of all people should also know what brainwashing can do to someone. I assume you haven't held it against Barton, what Loki did to him?"

Natasha took a deep breath, her eyes still narrowed and wary, darting from the Winter Soldier to Steve and then back again, but she slowly lowered her guns all the same, clicking the safeties back on and slowly putting them back into her belt loops. She folded her arms and said, "Alright. Explain."

"Whoa," said Ari, unable to look away from her. "I can't believe I'm meeting the Black Widow."

Natasha looked at Ari as if noticing her for the first time. "And who's the chick?" she asked. "Did you finally ask someone out, Steve? What happened to the nurse next door?"

Steve let out a slight chuckle and said, "Ari _is _a nurse too, coincidentally…but I didn't ask her out. She's Bucky's nurse. She helped nurse him back to health."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "What, is this like some sort of romance novel? Nurse finds destitute wandering soldier and nurses him back to health and then they fall in love?"

"Uh, _no_," said Ari. "This is absolutely not like that. I found him, I realized he was sick and wouldn't go to a hospital, so I took him home and tried to help him. Along the way, I figured out who he was and figured I'd try to help him regain his memories. So we came to find Steve. After hacking into HYDRA' s files and printing out all the files on Soldier."

"_You _hacked into HYDRA?" Natasha demanded. "Even I— Who did it? You?"

"My brother did it," said Ari.

So much for trying to protect her, the Winter Soldier thought vaguely to himself. The secret was out now. Oh well, if anything it would put Alex in danger, and the Winter Soldier was all for putting Alex Madden in danger.

"Your brother, huh," said Natasha, biting her lip and staring at her absentmindedly. She was a tall and slender-yet-curvy woman and had shoulder length auburn hair that waved slightly. Very pretty. "And you managed to get _all _his files?"

"Yeah, they got more than what we have," said Steve. "The only problem is…they're in code. And only people at HYDRA can crack the code. Which is why I called you."

"You need my help breaking into HYDRA," finished Natasha, suddenly understanding what was going on. She ran a manicured hand through her hair and sighed. "I don't know, Steve. HYDRA's gone deep underground. If we can even find them—"

"We found coordinates," piped up Ari. "So we know where at least one location is."

Natasha looked at Ari, taking her in, and frowned. "How old are you? You look like you're eighteen."

"I'm twenty-three," said Ari, sounding a bit offended.

"So still a child," said Natasha.

"Yeah, because _you're_ so old," scoffed Ari. "These two"—she gestured to Steve and the Winter Solder—"are ancient. You and me? Not so much."

"Alright," said Natasha mildly. "Point taken." She looked at the Winter Soldier and he looked back at her, feeling partly uncomfortable and partly ready to knock her out if need be. "You," she said, her tone still laced with distrust. "Make _any _moves against us and I'll snap your neck faster than you can say 'HYDRA'. Understand?"

It took everything in the Winter Soldier's willpower to not attack her. He wouldn't tolerate being spoken to this way. It rankled at every nerve of his and he wanted to teach her a lesson, show that he wouldn't be talked to like this. But he had to admit that she had the right to speak this way—after all, he had been the "bad guy" for so long—and he didn't want to cause any fights, not when they were so close to helping him, so he ground his teeth and grudgingly said, "Yes." Even though he knew deep down that she would never be able to physically best him in a fight. But he said yes anyway.

"Then let's plan," said Natasha. "But first, don't you think you're forgetting something, Rogers?"

"What?" asked Steve, looking confused.

"Sam," she said. "He'll kill you if you leave him out of this."

Steve paused. "Right… Right, I should go call Sam. Wait for me. And _don't _tell Fury," he added suddenly, giving Natasha a hard look.

She held up her hands and innocently said, "I wasn't going to," but Steve gave her a hard stare for one more moment and then left, vanishing up the stairs. She chuckled once and said, "Sometimes I still don't think he trusts me."

"Who's Sam?" asked Ari.

"The Falcon," said Natasha. "Not that that name means anything to you… But he's a friend. He can help."

The Falcon. The Winter Soldier audibly groaned. Here was another person he'd tried to kill, another person he'd have to face. How many times would he have to go through this? Both Natasha and Ari gave him a curious look and he looked away from them. He felt Natasha's gaze boring a hole through him for a few minutes until he couldn't take it anymore. He turned back to her and stiffly said, "I'm sorry."

"For?" she drawled. She knew exactly what he meant, she was trying to make this painful for him. Natasha was a different type of woman than Ari was. They were both extremely tough but Natasha was a different breed of tough. Where Ari treated him kindly, he sensed Natasha would have no problem ripping a bandage off any wound he had with no regard for his pain.

"For trying to kill you," he said, adding, "Twice."

"Do you want to see the scar you gave me?" Natasha asked suddenly. She lifted up her shirt suddenly to expose her left hip and the Winter Soldier stared with a mix of fascination and horror at the large scar that marred her left hip. He remembered; he'd shot through her. She lowered her shirt, her expression closed off, and then she said, "But it's fine. I've moved on. So should you."

"That's it?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know if you know this about me, but I…was once like you. I worked for the wrong team, I spilled a lot of blood, except I made my own decisions and _you _were brainwashed. So I'm even worse than you. And if I managed to turn my life around and try to atone, then you can do the same. Plus, I've had a friend who was brainwashed before and so I know…what it's like when people aren't themselves."

"Is this Hawkeye?" asked Ari. "Who was brainwashed?"

"Yeah," said Natasha.

"By Loki?" asked Ari.

"How do you know all this?" asked Natasha. "Most of this isn't common information."

Ari blushed slightly. "I kind…I don't know. I think the Avengers are cool. I did a little bit of research."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "The _Avengers_. I hate that name. It makes us sound like superheroes. Ridiculous."

"You _are_ superheroes," argued Ari. "The way you saved New York—that was incredible."

Natasha didn't respond, merely cocked her head and looked at Ari quizzically.

The Winter Solder didn't know what any of these names meant. Hawkeye? Loki? The Avengers? Ari had mentioned the Avengers before but she hadn't really explained. He waited for someone to explain but when no one spoke, he cleared his throat and asked, "The Avengers?"

"Not a big deal," started Natasha but Ari cut her off.

"Totally a big deal," she disagreed. "It's a team. Of superheroes," she added, darting a glance at Natasha. "Comprised of Iron Man, Thor, the Hulk, Captain America, Hawkeye, and her—Black Widow. About two years ago, Thor's crazy brother, Loki—they're both Norse gods, by the way, from a different world—tried to take over New York with an alien army. The Avengers helped stop him."

"You make us sound a lot cooler than we are," said Natasha.

"You don't realize how cool you guys are, then," said Ari, smiling. "You saved possibly the whole world. Who knows what Loki would have done to us?"

Natasha shook her head, possibly at Ari's slight fangirling over the Avengers, but she was smiling slightly too. Steve came bounding down the steps, snapping a cell phone shut. "Okay, Sam's in, and he's _way _too excited," he said.

"He's Sam, what did you expect?" asked Natasha.

"What did you tell him about me?" asked the Winter Soldier apprehensively.

"Just that you were alive, free of HYDRA, and needed our help," said Steve. "He said yes right away. Sam's a good man."

It seemed like the Winter Soldier was surrounded by good men. Good women. Good people. Steve was the epitome of goodness. This Sam character was a good man. Natasha had turned her life around and was a good woman now, a superhero apparently. Ari was a good human. Everyone was good, good, good, good…except for the Winter Soldier, who still felt poisoned and dark on the inside. He was trying so hard to be good but the urge to kill someone still overtook him. He still remembered the people he had killed. He had ended lives, destroyed families, started revolutions, started genocides… His actions had been the sparks that had lit flames that had devoured thousands of lives. He wasn't good and he didn't think he ever would be, no matter how he tried. No matter how much blood Natasha had on her hands, it could never be as much blood as he did. No matter how brainwashed this Hawkeye had been, it could never be as mindless as the Winter Soldier had been.

They sat there in slight silence, talking every now and then, waiting for Sam to show up. The Winter Soldier stayed mostly silent and he kept his gaze locked on Steve. He couldn't help but feel a strange rush of fondness—an unnatural feeling—when he looked at the man. He remembered their friendship. Not all of it, but a lot of it. And he wasn't in the habit of being friends with anyone but it seemed so easy with Steve. His smile was so friendly, his demeanor so open. He accepted the Winter Soldier and he called him "Bucky", which was starting to seem more and more okay, and the Winter Soldier could feel the roots of friendship creeping back up through his body and tethering themselves to Steve. Even after all this time, he could see how easy it would be to be close to Steve again. The man was an honorable, open book, and he was loyal to a fault. He made the Winter Soldier feel like he had a chance.

Ari, for that matter, kept a close eye on the Winter Soldier, checking to make sure he was okay. He was aware of this and he couldn't help but feel a sudden, random rush of fondness for her as well. Here was someone who cared about him, who gave without receiving. He barely gave her anything and yet here she was, helping him, checking on his safety—the way a mother would. Where Steve made him feel comfortable, Ari made him feel safe. Which was odd, because physically, she was the last person on Earth who could have kept him safe. But physical safety wasn't all there was in the world and his mind and spirit felt more broken than his body.

Natasha kept a close eye on him too and her gaze was more wary, more suspicious, but he also detected a hint of sympathy on it. She was willing to give him a chance too, because of her own dark past. He marveled at the fact that a few weeks ago, he'd been trying his best to kill two of the people in this room—and now they were both putting their lives on the line to help save him. HYDRA had been wrong. All those scientists who had emotionlessly told him that the world was rotten, the world was bad, the world needed HYDRA's help to be destroyed to the ground and then rebuilt…they'd all been wrong.

The world was good. The world had good in it. There were people worth saving. The Winter Soldier shuddered to think of how many more good people would have died if he'd remained HYDRA's puppet and had kept starting wars and uprisings and kept destroying the public peace.

There was a sudden loud banging at the door that made all of them jump in alarm and then Ari laughed at how startled they all looked. Steve got up to open the door and in strode a tall, well-built black man, looking hyped up and grinning. "Hey, man!" he said, hugging Steve and clapping him on the back. He walked into the kitchen and said, "Hey, girl, how've you been?" to Natasha, smiling, before noticing the Winter Soldier staring at him, and stopped in his tracks. He let out a low whistle and said, "So it really is true. You're back. And you're not dressed like a warrior ninja this time."

"You were dressed like a warrior ninja?" whispered Ari. "I thought you looked like a trucker."

"I changed clothes," muttered the Winter Soldier, remembering suddenly that he'd stuffed his back of gear under his bed at Ari's house and left it there.

Sam smiled somewhat hesitantly but it was a cheerful smile. "You nearly killed me, dude, but you know what? It's all cool. You were brainwashed, so I guess I can't really blame you."

"Uh, thanks," said the Winter Soldier cautiously, somewhat alarmed at how easily Sam was taking this. He didn't look like he was fazed at all and the Winter Soldier wondered if encountering brainwashed murderous decades-old assassins was something the man did everyday.

Sam turned to Ari and then raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Oh? And who's this lovely lady?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Give it a rest, Sam."

"What? Jealous, Natasha? Don't worry, ladies, there's enough of the Falcon for everyone," joked Sam and Natasha snorted.

Ari grinned and said, "I'm Ari, Soldier's nurse," and she went through the same quick explanation she'd given both Steve and Natasha.

"His nurse! Alright, that's cool," said Sam, clapping his hands together and rubbing them, nodding. "I hope I'm lucky enough to find a cute nurse if I ever get my memory wiped and end up wandering around the country."

The Winter Soldier rubbed his temples, not sure if he was embarrassed for Sam or embarrassed for himself, and Sam laughed. "Relax, man, I'm just playing. Just trying to lighten the mood, you know, since you sort of tried kicking all of our asses a few weeks ago. Didn't succeed, though, no one gets the drop over the Falcon," he added proudly. The Winter Soldier distinctly remembered ripping one of Sam's wings off and sending him hurtling to Earth—thereby getting the "drop" on him—but he decided now would not be the best time to point this out.

"Right, why don't you take a seat, Mr. Falcon, and help us plan this thing," said Natasha, gesturing to a chair.

Steve began to quickly sweep all the old photos and memorabilia back into his box. When he was done, Ari pulled the thick files she'd binder-clipped together from her bag on the counter and slammed them down on the table. "This is what we have," she said. "They're in code."

Steve opened a drawer and pulled out a small file folder with the letters 'TWSP' stamped on the front, setting it down on the table. "This is what I have."

"And these," said Ari, setting down a sheet, "are the coordinates that my brother found for us."

Steve opened a drawer and pulled out a laptop which looked largely unused and handed it to Natasha, who flipped it open, powered it up, and then cracked her knuckles. "Alright," she murmured, logging into the computer. "Let's do this."

The Winter Soldier looked at the papers on the table and then the people crowded all around the table. There were five of them now; they were a true team, all working to help _him_. He sat up straight and pulled Steve's file folder over to himself, taking a deep breath and looking down at the cover which held some of the secrets that he so dearly wanted to know. Time to find HYDRA. Cut off one head…and up sprouted two more. Well, it was time to find one of the heads of this beast—and then destroy the whole monster for good. He was going to take down HYDRA even if he died trying. This time, the choice would be his. To live or to die. Who to kill. What moves to make next.

"You ready?" asked Natasha, looking him directly in the eye.

He steeled his courage and said, "Yes," staring directly back into her eyes without wavering.


	8. Chapter 8

As it turned out, Natasha had a decoding program on a flash drive—but it wouldn't work on the Winter Soldier's files they'd stolen from HYDRA's systems. She swung the silver flash drive around on her index finger and tried to explain the situation. "This flash drive holds a program that can be used to code _and _decode things," she said. "The thing is, it's rudimentary. There are some more complex programs that can decode whatever comes their way. They feed off of new stimuli and accumulate information as they keep decoding, so they almost _learn_, in a way. I used to have access to a program like that—but when SHIELD went down…" She paused. "Well, let's just say that we don't have access to that kind of decoding program at the moment. All we have is this. And this only decodes things that it's been _programmed _to decode."

"What do you mean?" asked Ari, puzzled.

"When it was created, it had the memory of at least a thousand different types of codes stored in here," said Natasha. "If the code that's been used on these files matches up with one of the ones on this flash drive…then we're good to go. It can decode it for us. We'd just need to scan the pages in and it would translate them for us. But if the code used on these pages _isn't _one that this program has been programmed to recognize…"

"Then we're SOL," finished Sam. "Hundred bucks says the code HYDRA used on these files won't match up with the flash drive."

"Probably not," admitted Natasha. "Like I said, this program is pretty rudimentary. I mean, it's advanced for regular coding and encryption—but this is _HYDRA_. And you were the crown jewel of their projects. They'll have secured your files so that no one but them can read them."

The crown jewel of HYDRA. The Winter Soldier's mouth pressed into a flat line but he didn't say anything in response…because it was true. He _had _been one of HYDRA's crowning glories. They had a great many projects that they worked on, but their superhuman mindless assassin who had never been caught was one of their most important works. He stared down at the file that said "TWSP"—for _The Winter Soldier Project_—and felt a tic on his jaw pulse in anger. He didn't like being reminded that he had just been a project, a mindless weapon, a…thing.

"I'll try to see if these files match up first," said Natasha, pulling Ari's stack of papers towards her. "It's a small hope—but we can try. If it doesn't work, I'll work on decoding these coordinates. They're all scrambled up but I think the program should be able to figure this one out. This may take a few hours… You boys go run and play." She smiled, a lazy and mysterious smile that was hard to read. Her eyes flicked over to Ari and she added, "You can stay with me. Have some girl time." Her tone seemed a bit dry and sarcastic, but her smile didn't seem malicious.

"Okay," said Ari, a little nervously, scooting over to where Natasha sat.

"I'm gonna go shoot some hoops," said Sam. "I need to work off some of this nervous energy. You coming, Steve?"

"Sure," said Steve, standing up. "Natasha's got this handled, I think."

"Damn right I do, Rogers," said Natasha, still smiling lazily.

"You coming, Bucky?" asked Steve.

The Winter Soldier looked up with a jolt, still not used to being called "Bucky" and addressed like he was any other normal guy, and automatically said, "No…I'm tired." He wasn't even sure why he said no, but saying yes to social invitations wasn't in his nature. He almost regretted it as Steve said, "Alright. Take it easy, okay? You know where to find me," and walked outside with Sam—but he didn't know how to take back his words without seeming idiotic. So he stayed.

"What's the matter, Barnes?" asked Natasha. "You don't want to 'hang with the bros'?" He stiffened when she used his old last name and her quick eyes caught the movement (of course they did; did Natasha miss anything? Well, besides the fact that the agency she worked for her had been a farce this whole time…). "What, you don't like me calling you that?" she asked. She stuck the flash drive into the computer and plugged a long black object that looked like a bit like a wand with a clear side and a black wire into another slot in the laptop. "I kind of assumed you wouldn't want me to call you Bucky… And James is so formal and weird, isn't it?"

"I call him Soldier," suggested Ari. "You could say th—"

"_No_." The word came out of the Winter Soldier's mouth before he even realized it was happening. He blinked for a moment, surprised at himself, but his opinion still stood. Ari called him Soldier but he wouldn't let anyone else call him Soldier. It reminded him too much of who he had been before, who he still was sometimes now. Not even Steve could call him that. That was an honor that would be reserved for Ari, since she had been the first person to save his life and give him a chance. "Call me Barnes," he finally said grudgingly. There was nothing else anyway.

"Alright, _Barnes_," said Natasha. "What, you don't want to go out and play ball?"

"What's 'ball'?" he asked. He knew what sports were, of course—but what _type _of 'ball' was Sam referring to?

"Basketball," said Ari. "Steve has a hoop outside. I noticed."

"I don't know how to play," said the Winter Soldier and Natasha gave him a look that seemed to be half-pity and half-scorn and it made him irritated. He decided he didn't like Natasha much. For someone who had apparently done worse things than him (though he doubted that), she seemed a little too judgmental.

"Alright, the program is running," said Natasha. She picked up the wand, pressed a button, and a red light strip glowed to life, running down the side of the wand. She pulled the very first paper of the stack towards her, smoothed it out, and then very slowly moved the wand down the page, scanning the coded words with the red light. Then she put it down and pressed a button on the keyboard. The laptop beeped and Natasha sighed. "It's uploading and scanning. This will take a few minutes. I miss SHIELD's advanced systems…this is so primitive…"

"How does the—that stick thing get the image?" asked Ari.

"Similar to how a panoramic camera catches an image," explained Natasha, "except this is more advanced. Sorry, I don't really know how to explain it to you…"

"No worries," said Ari easily. "I don't understand this stuff—but I bet you wouldn't understand things from _my _profession either. Know what a diuretic is?"

"No," said Natasha.

"Trust me, you don't want to," said Ari and Natasha chuckled slightly.

"So you're a doctor?" she asked. "A nurse?"

"A nurse," confirmed Ari.

Natasha glanced at the screen and then frowned at Ari. "A nurse, huh? As far as I remember…nurses don't get to just take off whatever time they want to go on adventures with brainwashed assassins. How are you away from work?"

"I…" Ari paused and the Winter Soldier noticed something slight shift into her eyes—something went flat in her eyes and he recognized it again as someone who was forcing their emotions to remain hidden so they could lie convincingly. "I took some time off."

"Hmmm," said Natasha in a tone that suggested she didn't quite believe Ari either—but evidently she decided it was none of her business, because she shrugged and turned back to the computer.

The Winter Soldier gave Ari a hard look, letting her know that he knew she was lying, and she looked away, avoiding his gaze. She picked up her phone and stared determinedly at her phone, even though they both knew there wasn't even anything on the screen. The Winter Soldier was in half a mind to confront her right then and there about her lie—but he was afraid it would open a can of emotional worms and he still wasn't ready for that. So he abruptly stood up and left, suddenly needing to be away from Ari's presence. She was making him irritated but more than anything, she was making him uneasy and anxious. The way she was acting…it was as if she had _quit _her job and was lying about it. But she wouldn't do that…would she? What sane person would quit their job to help a total stranger? That would be beyond insane, even for someone as selfless as Ari…_right_?

Because if Ari _had _done that for him, it made him feel _extremely _uncomfortable. Like his debt to her was growing and he would have no way to pay her back and then he would feel even more wretched about his existence. He hoped that she was simply lying about something else and truly hadn't quit. Because if she had, he'd be torn between shaking her and demanding to know what was wrong with her, or worrying about her sanity.

Sam and Steve were tossing around a basketball outside but it was more like Steve was playing keep-away because Sam couldn't possibly keep up with Steve. The Winter Soldier leaned against the front door, arms crossed in front of his chest, watching them. The summer air was uncomfortably hot today and he reached up and tied his hair back with a hair tie Ari had slipped him off of her wrist earlier. He would have joined in with Steve and Sam, except he wasn't really sure how to play basketball—he didn't recall playing it back in his childhood; he had memories of _baseball_—and anyway, his body still felt a little too sore to really be running around playing games. His wounds were healing well but he was still bruised and battered and now that HYDRA wasn't pumping him full of chemicals and running him through machines that patched him up, he was healing more slowly. He was healing more _humanly_, as Ari would have said.

"You want to play?" called Steve and the Winter Soldier shook his head.

"I—give—up," panted Sam, coming to a stop and bending over, resting his hands on his knees. He stood up, wiping sweat off his forehead, and said, "Man, and I'm _black_. I should be able to do this better than you."

Steve let out a startled laugh and said, "Not your fault, Sam."

"Yeah, not my fault you're a freak," said Sam, but he playfully punched Steve on the shoulder. The Winter Soldier watched them, envying the ease with which Sam interacted with Steve. Would it ever be that easy for him?

"You all done, boys?" Natasha appeared behind the screen door and the Winter Soldier stepped forward, startled. His hearing was superb but she moved more silently than he'd ever heard any normal human move. He guessed that was one of the reasons she was called Black Widow—she was silent and deadly. "Because I've got our coordinates."

"Where are they?" asked Steve as they stepped inside the house. He wiped some sweat off his brow, his already-tight t-shirt sticking to his torso from all the sweat, and the Winter Soldier noticed Ari turning a little pink and burying her face into her bag, pretending to look for something. The Winter Soldier didn't quite understand the appeal—but then again, he supposed tall, muscular, and blond was something women tended to go for. Even Natasha's gaze lingered on Steve for a nanosecond too long and then she was showing them the computer screen.

"Sorry, Barnes, the files didn't work," she said apologetically. "It was a long shot and we missed. But the coordinates _did _work. Look." She pointed to the screen, which showed green numbers on a green graph glowing on a black background, a circular dot indicating where the coordinates led to. "It's up north, near the Pennsylvania border."

"Pennsylvania?" Steve frowned. "That's random…"

"That's well-hidden," corrected Natasha. "Who would think to look in Pennsylvania?"

"No one," replied Ari. "Because it's a boring as hell state."

"I could take offense to that, since my grandma lives in Pennsylvania," said Sam, "if I didn't agree with you." He held out his hand for a high five and Ari smacked his palm with hers.

"So when do we start?" asked Ari, looking at all the faces around her.

"We set out tomorrow," decided Steve. He looked at Sam and Natasha. "Is that okay with you guys? You can work out some excuses for work, Sam?"

"Definitely," said Sam.

"And _I _am off the grid," said Natasha. "No one is checking up on me. Fury is still in Europe, pretending to be dead. No thanks to Barnes here." She gave the Winter Soldier a side-eye and he glared back at her, wishing she would stop bringing up the things he'd done while he had been brainwashed. He already felt disgusting enough over it, did she _have _to constantly remind him of the crimes he'd committed?

"Alright," said Steve. "Sounds like a plan then. We meet tomorrow, here, at 0600 hours."

"Man, I need my beauty sleep," joked Sam. "What is this?"

"And Bucky needs his memories back," said Steve. "Which is more important?"

"Sam's looks," said Natasha, half-smirking and the Winter Soldier glared at her again, unsure of whether she was joking with him or mocking him. She sensed his glare and smirked even more and he turned away, frowning. She was so closed off and strange, so mysterious—he didn't know how to deal with her.

Natasha printed out the coordinates and then she and Sam said goodbye and got going, Sam heading home and Natasha to…whatever safe house she was laying low at. After she'd dumped all of HYDRA and SHIELD's information online, all of her covers had been blown and all her secrets had been exposed. For a few weeks, the headlines had screamed all sorts of conspiracies about Black Widow. It had only been in recent days that they'd slightly died down, though they were still circulating.

"What about you, Bucky?" asked Steve. "You want to stick around longer?" His face looked hopeful.

The Winter Soldier slowly picked up the file on the table and said, "I think I'll get going. I'll be back tomorrow."

Steve's face fell slightly but then he smiled, a pleasant and closed-off smile that betrayed no emotions, and said, "Okay. Take care."

Ari said goodbye to Steve and then they left his house. Night had fallen by now and the Winter Soldier's stomach rumbled. Ari looked over, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Hungry, are we?"

"Sort of," he admitted.

"I think it's more than _sort of_," she said, grinning. "We'll stop and get some food somewhere. Like I said, I'd take you out…but until you've taken down HYDRA, I just don't think that's a smart idea." She frowned at something in the distance for a moment, thinking, and he watched her face from the passenger seat. It was dark so her face was thrown in angles and shadows and her eyes seemed all dark, like demon eyes, for a moment and she didn't look like the Ari he knew. A cold feeling went down his spine—but then she turned and the light shifted and her eyes were blue again and something akin to relief washed over him. He didn't know why it should have mattered to him so much, but he didn't like feeling unsure of who he was surrounding himself with. And Ari hadn't looked like herself for a moment.

They drove in silence to something called Panda Express and they went through the drive thru. The Winter Soldier pulled his baseball cap further down on his face and stared at his lap while Ari talked to the person standing at the drive thru. He could feel the person's curious eyes on him and he shifted his whole body and looked out the window. He didn't change his position until they got back to the hotel.

"Have you had Chinese food before?" asked Ari, putting the takeout bags down on the desk in the hotel room. "I mean, not that this is _real _Chinese…it's American-Chinese…but still."

"No," he said truthfully. As HYDRA's puppet, he'd never had the chance to taste any different types of food. And he didn't think Chinese food was something that was regularly consumed in the 1940's. The nation hadn't been so diverse back then. The Winter Soldier didn't even recall interacting with many people of other races back then. The world was different now and he couldn't help but feel like it made slightly more sense now. The Howling Commandoes hadn't all been white men…but they'd still _all _been the bravest men the Winter Soldier remembered encountering.

"Okay, well I hope you like it," said Ari uncertainly. "If you don't, I'll go get something else, okay? Don't hesitate to tell me."

However, as it turned out, the Winter Soldier _did _like it. It was strange, that was for sure—but in a good way. Flavors he'd never realized could exist exploded in his mouth and he couldn't help but think that this was ten times better than a burger. He just really did not like burgers.

They both ate on their respective beds in silence for a while, a comfortable silence. He was glad Ari didn't feel the need to clutter the air with mindless and empty talk. He wasn't good at random conversation and it would have made him feel awkward and out-of-touch. There was still so much of this world he had to get used to. Not only was he a man out of time, like Steve…but he also had to get back in touch with his humanity. Steve had never had to do that—he'd been an honorable man from the beginning to the present. The Winter Soldier envied him that. He envied him being able to choose his life, being able to choose to do good. Bucky Barnes had been a good man, that much was apparent…but that Bucky Barnes was gone. He'd have to become a new one and sometimes he wondered if he could _ever _be as good as the old one.

He looked at Ari, who was staring at the wall and sort of zoning out, and suddenly did something very uncharacteristic and blurted, "What happened to your best friend?"

The silence changed then. It became a bit tenser and his sharp eyes caught Ari's body stiffening slightly. Her mouth flattened a bit and her hands trembled slightly. But she put her plate of food on the bedside table and turned to face him. "You really want to know?" she asked, nervously twisting a dark strand of hair around her finger.

Over a week ago, the Winter Soldier would have said no. He wouldn't have wanted to know. He still wasn't sure if he wanted to; this would require him to respond in ways he wasn't sure he could handle. But parts of him had changed and he couldn't deny that he had felt a niggling bit of curiosity ever since learning something had happened to Ari's best friend. Who had her best friend been, anyway? What kind of person had they been?

"Yes," he finally said.

"My best friend's name was Danika," she said. Her eyes had a distant look to them, as if she was lost in old memories. "Strange name, right? Strange like mine. People called us Ari & Dani, like some sort of stupid girl pop duo…but we liked it. We thought it was funny. Anyway…we were close. That's all I can say, I guess. We'd known each other since we were five and I could tell her anything. When… Growing up, when Alex was ruining all of our lives… I never told anyone. I bottled up all my anger and frustration and worry and hurt and I kept smiling and I never told anyone what was going on in my house. I went to sleep hearing Alex and my parents having yet _another _stupid fight—my parents yelling and pleading with him to get his life on track, him yelling back about how…stupid and 'abusive' they were." She snorted. "My parents were the nicest people ever. Alex was just a…"

She rubbed her eyes. "Anyway. Dani was the only one who knew what was happening. She was the only person I told. She knew all the pain Alex caused us. And everything was fine until the summer we were eighteen. Dani and I were both going to college that fall and Alex had lazed around for a few years like a total slob…but he'd just gotten that job for the company he works for, Lumina. Remember, the one he hacked into?"

The Winter Soldier nodded.

"Anyway…I don't know what Alex was thinking," said Ari, and this was where her tone changed. A note of bitterness crept into it, but also one of awful sadness. "Maybe he wanted to punish me for some imaginary slight. Alex was always a vengeful person. So he made it his mission to steal Dani away from me. He never cared about her—but he pretty much…he pretty much _seduced _her, I guess. And Dani…the one person in the whole world who knew what kind of person Alex was…Dani fell for it. She abandoned me completely. She spent the whole summer attached to Alex's side. We had a few huge fights about it but nothing was ever resolved. She was convinced she was _in love _with him." Ari let out a harsh laugh. "I guess Dani never got the memo from my stories: Alex isn't capable of loving anyone but himself. I _knew _he was doing it to hurt me, because he told me all the time how he had 'won'." She sighed. "He even managed to convince Dani to defer and take a gap year. Can you believe that? She and I were going to the same college, we were gonna be roomies and everything… He's so poisonous but he's also so convincing. So she actually did it. She took a gap year and went to California with him and I went to college. I got a different roommate and Dani and I didn't speak for the entire year.

"And then I got the call," she said quietly. "End of my freshman year. The year had been hard for me, with Dani gone. Do you get it? Maybe you don't… But you were Steve's rock back in the day, and he was yours. I could tell from the photos. And Dani was my rock. She was the most important person in my life. So freshman year had been hard…but I found some new friends and I was moving on, even if it hurt like hell. But then I got a call at the end of my freshman year. Dani had been killed in a car accident in L.A."

Ari covered her face with her hands and the Winter Soldier felt frozen. He should have never asked to hear this story. He couldn't deal with this. He wasn't sure if Ari was crying but he didn't know what to do. He didn't have words. He knew he should have gotten up to put his arm around her or something, but he couldn't make himself move.

But then Ari lifted her head and her eyes were dry. "The rest of college was a nightmare," she said. "I didn't make any friends. All I did at first was cry and feel angry. Cry because I never got to say goodbye to her, cry because our last year had been wasted, cry because she'd chosen Alex over me. And feel angry at her, feel angry at Alex, feel angry at the world. Feel angry that I could never tell her how she hurt me. Feel angry that he was worth more to her than I was. Feel angry that she wouldn't get to grow up." To the Winter Soldier's horror, _now _Ari's eyes were shiny and glazed with unshed tears. "I lost all the friends I'd made freshman year. I became depressed, but I still managed to pass with good grades. All I did was study. My parents died during the next three years at college and I moved back home as soon as I graduated and passed the NCLEX and I became an RN at the hospital in town. And that's where I've been since…since I picked you up."

To the Winter Soldier's immense relief, Ari rubbed the tears away and smiled slightly to herself. "I'm not totally pathetic. I made friends at the hospital. I still had childhood friends in the area. I'm not some social freak. But…but things haven't been the same since then."

She looked at him, sitting there frozen, and suddenly burst out laughing and he looked at her in alarm. What was so funny? Nothing about her story was amusing in the slightest bit. In fact, he was feeling rather strange, because he could sort of relate to the feeling of having your best friend vanish and feeling you didn't really know who they were… And he also loathed Alex Madden more than ever and vowed to himself that if he ever met him again, he'd perform one last merciless kill. The man had it badly coming.

"Why are you laughing?" he demanded.

"Oh, Soldier—if you could have seen your _face_!" She burst into laughter again. "You looked like I'd told you that—I don't even know! But you looked so terrified that…" She bent over, laughing breathlessly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing—but you looked—sorry—"

The Winter Soldier couldn't help but sort of smile at the sight of Ari laughing and grudgingly said, "It's fine. But your story…"

"Yeah?" she said, hiccupping slightly—though whether it was because of her earlier laughter or earlier tears, he didn't know.

"That sucks," he finished. He had been hoping to lighten the mood a bit more and it worked…sort of. She smiled but her smile was a bit sad again. "It does suck, doesn't it?" she asked, leaning back on against her headboard and sighing. "But then again, that's life. People come and go."

People came. But did they ever really go? The Winter Soldier couldn't help but wonder. He'd even had his memories erased multiple times—but the ghosts of his past still haunted him to this day, some of them faint memories and some of them…more solid. He pictured Steve's face in his mind and shivered slightly. The image of Steve made him feel so strange that he almost didn't like to think about him. He made him feel…lost, like he was lost at sea, like he was desperately reaching for something that he had forgotten…but also like he was tethered to something while the storm raged around him. He felt hollow around Steve, as if he could _feel _the years they'd lost—but he also felt like he could feel all their years of friendship underneath the hollowness.

_"I'm with you till the end of the line!"_

The Winter Soldier winced at the pinch behind his eyes. Such strange feelings.

"Don't feel sorry for me," said Ari abruptly, looking at him. "I've learned how to cope. You have to stay positive."

"Yeah, I can see that," the Winter Soldier said dryly.

"What's _that _supposed to mean?" she asked.

"You're freakishly positive," he told her. "You're weird."

"If you weren't my patient, I'd punch you," she said playfully.

The Winter Soldier couldn't help but feel amused at the thought of someone so small causing him any damage whatsoever. Then he stopped feeling amused when he remembered his earlier fear—that Ari might have quit her job for him. He eyed her shiftily and wondered if he should ask…but no. He couldn't take any more emotional drama tonight. Her story had already shocked him to the core. Any more and it would be an overload and he'd end up breaking the window and escaping to get away from the stress of trying to deal with so much _human-ness_.

"Have you looked at your file?" she asked after a moment.

The file. The Winter Soldier bit the inside of his cheek and automatically looked at the file on the desk. He wanted to look at it…but a part of him was very afraid of what it would say. "No," he finally said.

"We could look at it together," suggested Ari. After he didn't respond for a moment, she faltered and said, "But we don't have to, of course, I was just sugges—"

"No, let's do it," said the Winter Soldier. He stood up and was immediately besieged by a memory that left him staggering backwards.

_He was sitting on a hard chair, a white table in front of him. A man in a white coat sat across from him, on the other side of the chair. He leaned forward across the table and slid a file folder towards him. "Open it." The command was quiet and dangerous._

_ He listened. Of course he did. He opened the file folder. Inside was a photo of a man with short dark hair and a relatively somber smile, wearing a button-down shirt. It was him…or he had his face, anyway. He didn't really look like him now._

_ "Who is this man?" asked the man in the white coat. He tapped the photo._

_ The words "I don't know" were on the Winter Soldier's tongue—but then he frowned at the photo. The man looked exactly like him…but he was a different man. Right? So why was this photo tickling at his mind? He cocked his head and looked more closely at the photo and felt himself remember a name._

_ "B…Bucky," he said slowly, almost as if he were confused. "Bucky…? That's his name. He's…" He frowned, puzzled, and stared more intently at the photo. "He was…me? I was…Bucky?"_

_ SLAP. It came out of nowhere, stinging and sharp, cracking his face to the right. It didn't actually hurt so much as it shocked him. He blinked and slowly raised a hand to his face, as if in slow motion. What had he done wrong?_

_ The man in the white coat stood up and in a disgusted voice said, "You need a second wiping, it seems." He lifted a black device to his mouth and barked, "Ready the device! I'm bringing him in."_

_ A thrill of fear went through the Winter Soldier's gut—they were going to put him in the chair again—but he stared down at the picture, still bewildered as to what had gone wrong. Who was Bucky? Why did he feel like he was him? What had happened?_

_ And then guards were grabbing his arms on either side and his heart began to thunder with fear that he could never bring himself to admit he felt. _

"Soldier—here, drink this." He found Ari propping him up slowly on the bed and pressing a cup to his mouth. He obediently opened his mouth without thinking and drank the glass of water. His head was pounding and he couldn't believe he had blacked out.

"How—how long—?" he gasped, trying to mask his humiliation and struggling to breathe normally. He could still feel his heart pounding at the memory…or was it still pounding _from _within the memory?

"Just a few seconds," she said, putting the cup down on the bedside table and checking his forehead. "You feel clammy…"

"I had a memory," he said, blindly pushing her hand away. "I…I remembered who I was, once. They took me to get my memory wiped again. I was afraid…I was so, so afraid…" He was babbling so quickly that he didn't even realize that he normally would have felt embarrassed admitting that he felt afraid about anything. He had to get this out. "The man slapped me and then they took me back to the chair…"

"Of course you were afraid," Ari said gently. "Anyone would be afraid in that situation. They did inhumane things to you."

"I'm weak," he said furiously, sitting upright and feeling the urge to snap someone's neck or punch someone until they bled. He unconsciously moved away from Ari a bit, without realizing that he was putting her out of harm's way. His heart was still pounding and he felt dizzy with anger and embarrassment at his own weakness and what he had allowed HYDRA to do to him. How could he have let them treat him like this? How could he have been so numb? Ari must have sensed the danger radiating from him because she didn't try to touch him or comfort him. Perhaps she sensed that he might snap if she did that. Instead, she got to her feet and forcefully said, "Read your file."

"Wh—?" He looked up at her, surprised at her change in tone and stance.

She strode to the desk, snatched up the file, and smacked it down on the bed next to him. "Read it." She crossed her arms. "You have to stop letting HYDRA control you."

"They're not controlling me anymore."

"Yes, they are," she said loudly and slowly. "You're…you're going through withdrawal, in a way. Your mind has gotten used to being suppressed. By not having your mind wiped, all your memories are coming back in painful ways. It's making you confused and weak. HYDRA is still playing with your mind and they don't even have access to you anymore. You need to take control of your own mind and find out for _yourself _what they did to you, instead of remembering it in painful flashbacks."

The Winter Soldier couldn't help but see the common sense in what Ari had just said. He looked at her, slightly impressed. He had come to know and expect a kind Ari—but this was a different Ari than he had ever seen before. She was pushing him, challenging him. He grabbed the file and opened up to the first page, silently patting the bed next to him, inviting Ari to read it with him. She sat down and they both leaned over the file folder. He opened it up and the first page was a typed overview of his physiology and body stats, with a picture of him as the Winter Soldier included. He didn't remember getting the photo taken…but what _did _he remember these days?

"You weighed 190 pounds back then," said Ari, reviewing it. "You weighed 175 pounds when I weighed you at my house. You've lost a lot of weight…" She looked worried. "That's not good. Do you know how recent this information was? Losing that much weight so quickly…"

"I don't know," he said, "but I feel fine."

She looked at him, biting her lip, speculating. "Yeah…I guess you seem fine. It's just weird…"

"I kicked your brother's ass easily," he reminded her, "and he looked over 200 pounds. I'm fine."

"If you say so," said Ari. They flipped to the next page. And the next. And the next. The next fifteen pages were just random notes about testing that had been done on him and how his body and mind had reacted afterwards.

_Shows no sign of remembering details of previous missions. _

_ Heart rate accelerated after pacers. Administered vicerin shots to decrease heart rate. Heart rate decreased by 20 bpm. _

_ Wounds healed at three times the rate after X-FOR scanning was administered. Watch WBC (?). _

And on and on and on. He didn't understand what half of it meant and from the look on Ari's face, neither did she. "I understand some of it…but not a lot," she admitted. "What's a vicerin shot? I've never heard of that. I think the _point _is that they gave you all sorts of freak drugs that modern medicine hasn't heart of yet, to turn you into a…"

"Freak," he grunted.

"_No_," she said sharply. "A superhuman. Not a freak. You're not a freak. Do you think you're a freak?"

"Yes," he snapped.

"Why is that?" she asked calmly, though there was a steely edge in her eyes.

"I'm—look at me!" he snapped, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "I'm insane! I'm a mess. I'm having flashbacks, I'm passing out, I can't talk to people… _And _I used to murder people."

"None of that is your fault," said Ari. "Channel your anger, Soldier. Channel it at HYDRA. Stop blaming yourself for things that aren't your fault." She flipped past a few more pages and then closed the file folder, looking disappointed. "It's all just testing on you. There's no information about your...um, missions." She rocked back onto her heels slightly and rested her chin on her knees. "It's probably all in the coded files, let's be honest. They wouldn't let information about your missions float around without some kind of protection."

The Winter Soldier agreed. He pushed the file folder away and sighed. He didn't know if he was disappointed that he still didn't have all the answers to what HYDRA had made him do, or if he was relieved that he could avoid the awful truth for a little while longer. Ari locked herself in the bathroom for a long time, so long that the Winter Soldier began to wonder if she'd _died _inside, even though he constantly heard the faucet and sounds of movement. When she came out (in sleeping clothes), he looked at her and asked, "What took so long?"

She pointed to her eyes. "Waterproof mascara and eyeliner, Soldier. Total nightmare."

The Winter Soldier had literally no idea what any of that meant but he nodded like he understood. Ari climbed into bed, said goodnight, turned off her bedside lamplight and stopped moving. The Winter Soldier didn't go to bed. He sat on his bed for a long time, the golden light of his lamplight throwing soft shadows around the whole room. He was _finally _going to get started on his mission tomorrow. He would finally get the chance to get revenge, to steal back what had been stolen from him. To kill the people who'd ruined his mind.

Killing. There would be violence. He looked over at Ari and internally groaned. He'd intended to teach her a little bit about using a weapon and self-defense…but he'd completely forgotten. Ari was probably brilliant in a medical emergency and when it came to mental strength, she had proven to be tough. But unless she was a secret martial arts master or something, the Winter Soldier doubted that she could hold her own in a physical fight. If it were up to him, he'd tell Ari to stay behind. But he knew that she would never allow that so he wouldn't even bother trying to convince her. He'd just have to find some time tomorrow to give her a few tips. Perhaps Steve could help. He probably knew more about teaching people to protect themselves. If Ari had wanted lessons in how to kill someone, the Winter Soldier would have been the expert. He clenched his cybernetic hand, feeling the killing power in it, and closed his eyes, trying and failing to clear his mind from the images of the people he remembered killing.

He fell asleep with his cybernetic hand clenched tightly, slumping over against his pillows, his bedside light still on. A soft golden light shone through the darkness and two different people tossed and turned, restless and lost in ghosts of their past that haunted them even in their sleep. It was a night for nightmares.


	9. Chapter 9

_Note: As JuliaAurelia pointed out, Pennsylvania actually isn't boring! I drove through there a few years ago and I personally really liked it (though I am a fan of mountain and forest scenery). But for the sake of the story, let's have Ari and Sam call it boring, yeah? ;) And thanks to everyone reading and reviewing; you really know how to make this author's day! _

_(Oh, and yes, I realize Alexander Pierce is dead—but the Winter Soldier doesn't know that!) _

They all gathered the next morning at 6 a.m. Ari had woken up from her restless sleep at 4 a.m. to pack all their belongings and to check out of the hotel. "We could leave some of our stuff," she said, "but we might be gone for a few days—and that leaves us vulnerable to people breaking in and stealing our things. It could even be the hotel staff, if they know we'll be gone for a few days." They didn't have much so packing didn't take long but then he washed up while she went and grabbed some breakfast and then she showered while he ate and then they set off.

Ari looked tired, dark shadows under her eyes, and she had swept her hair into a messy French braid because she couldn't even be bothered to brush it. She'd worn all black, slim-fit black pants, black sneakers, and a black long-sleeved shirt. He'd looked at her outfit and raised an eyebrow and she'd defensively said, "What? Wearing all black is what people do on these types of occasions, right?"

"I didn't say anything," he said mildly. He himself was wearing all-black. He wished he had his combat gear but he'd stupidly left it behind at Ari's house. Instead, he wore his combat boots, black skinny-type of jeans, and a black t-shirt with a leather jacket on top. Definitely not as good as his combat gear, which had included armored and protected pants and vest, but it was still better than wearing khaki shorts and a Hawaiian print t-shirt. Which was what Ari had suggested as a half-hearted joke.

"You didn't sleep well," she observed, parking in Steve's driveway and looking at him.

"Neither did you," he countered. She fell silent and he couldn't help but wonder what had plagued her at night. Had it been thoughts about Dani? Or worries about breaking into HYDRA? The Winter Soldier's nightmares had been a mix of breaking into HYDRA, old memories of being Bucky Barnes, Steve falling out of a helicarrier while Alex Madden crouched nearby and laughed, leaning over to push _him_, the Winter Soldier, out of the helicarrier too—and then a falling feeling as he fell, icy wind whipping past his face. Heartbeat muffled in his ears. Whistling noises. A slate-gray sky. His own scream. And then excruciating pain.

He'd tossed and turned all night due to his strange nightmares and he felt worse for the wear now. Out of all nights to not get a good night's sleep…he _had _to pick the one the day before they attacked HYDRA.

A large black Hummer-looking type of vehicle crept down the street and smoothly parked in Steve's driveway next to them. Its windows were tinted, even the front windows. Ari and the Winter Soldier stepped out of her car at the same time that Natasha stepped out of the black Hummer and smiled at them in her slow, small way that revealed absolutely nothing about herself. The woman truly was a mystery. "Hey, you two."

Ari raised an eyebrow and nodded to the tinted front windows. "Pretty sure that's illegal," she said.

"This is Washington D.C.," said Natasha. "Every politician owns a car like this. Trust me, it may be the place where laws are made but more laws are broken here than possibly any other place in the whole country."

"That's reassuring," murmured Ari, nervously twirling the end of her braid.

"Nice braid," said Natasha noticing.

"Really?" asked Ari in surprise, thinking Natasha was making fun of her because it was loose and messy.

"It's stylishly messy," she said.

The Winter Soldier was bored by this girly talk so he cleared his throat and said, "Let's go inside," and strode off without waiting to see if either woman followed him. He opened the door (which the significance of was lost on him…but generally Steve kept all his doors locked tight. He left it unlocked ever since the Winter Solder had returned, just in case Bucky needed to come over at any time for any reason). The lights were all on and Steve walked down the stairs, carrying a backpack slung over one arm and his should in the other arm. The Winter Soldier stared at the shield and felt frozen for a moment, thrown back to the moment…

_"I won't fight you." Steve dropped his shield and the Winter Soldier watched it glint in the firelights as it slid through the bars and fell to earth, the blue and red shining for a moment—and then it was gone. Steve looked at him with somber blue eyes. "You're my friend."_

"Whoa, Bucky, you okay?" asked Steve.

The Winter Soldier rubbed his flesh arm and turned away. "I'm fine." He felt embarrassed for some reason—and then he whirled around. "Why did…on the helicarrier…how were you sure I wouldn't kill you?"

"I wasn't," said Steve simply.

"So you just—you were just going to let me _kill _you?" he spluttered, clenching his fists. Was everyone around him some sort of selfless and suicidal maniac?

"I've already lived longer than I should have," said Steve quietly. "I should have died during the war. So should have you. I got a second chance at life—but I didn't really have anyone to live for. But still I did my duty to my country, and to the world. But I wouldn't mind being taken out, not if it was for a good cause. And you're a good cause. You've always been a good cause."

"But you'd be dead," said the Winter Soldier numbly. "How would that help me?"

Steve shrugged. "At that moment—I didn't think you'd ever snap out of it. So I thought, if I'm _going _to die…I won't die fighting my best friend. Whether he remembers me or not."

The front door opened and Ari poked her head in curiously. "Are you two coming? Sam just got here."

"Let's go," said Steve, leading the way out. Sam had pulled up on a motorcycle and said, "Sorry I'm late—but you know, beauty sleep and all that." Sam was dressed in the same type of battle gear that the Winter Soldier had fought him in a few weeks ago. Steve was wearing his uniform too but it was the first uniform, the more modern one, not the one from the helicarrier. Natasha wasn't wearing her uniform but she wore all black clothes like Ari, though the Winter Soldier didn't doubt that Natasha's clothes hid all sorts of weapons in them. Speaking of which—he'd have to teach Ari a little bit about weapons, if even for a little while. He couldn't send a civilian in with them blind.

Sam left his motorcycle parked in Steve's backyard so no one came along and stole it and then they call clambered into the car. The Winter Soldier hesitated, wondering where he was going to sit, but Natasha immediately called, "Shotgun," earning a mock-glare from Sam and climbed into the passenger seat. Sam crawled into the farthest seat at the back so the Winter Soldier supposed he was sitting next to Ari. Steve grabbed Ari's hand and helped her step up into the very high car before going around and sitting in the driver's seat. It was almost as if Steve had done it without thinking—like being chivalrous was his second nature. The Winter Soldier would never have even thought about helping Ari into the car. He was thinking so hard about this that he got into the car slowly and Natasha called, "Quickly, Barnes—unless you want another seventy years to pass before we get there?"

"_Natasha_," Steve reprimanded and Natasha laughed. The Winter Soldier felt his face get hot but he silently slammed the door shut and then they backed out of the driveway, gliding smoothly through the streets. The Hummer certainly was a smooth ride.

"The last time I was in a car near this guy," announced Sam, poking the Winter Soldier in the shoulder, "he ripped out my steering wheel."

The Winter Soldier had stiffened at being poked but before he could decide how to react, he heard a choking noise and turned to see Ari stuffing her fist into her mouth, bent over laughing. Natasha and Steve both glanced back at her laughing and ended up laughing themselves because her laughter was contagious.

"You _ripped out a steering wheel_?" she laughed, trying to cover her mouth. "Oh my god—why is the image of that so funny? Soldier!"

"It wasn't funny when I was the one driving," grumbled Sam and Ari started laughing even harder at that.

Completely not the reaction the Winter Soldier had expected and he finally decided that he'd never be able to fully guess Ari's reactions. Natasha reached over and turned on the radio to very soft, slow, crooning jazz. The Winter Soldier cringed slightly and said, "I hate this type of music."

"Would you prefer hard rock?" asked Natasha sarcastically.

"I like dancing music," he said, thinking for a moment. "Like…like swing."

"Sorry, no _swing _available," said Natasha. "I can, however, introduce you to the delights of modern music." She switched the station and a bubblegum-y female voice blared through the speakers, accompanied by what sounded like two robots screaming in pain. The Winter Soldier jerked back, disgusted, and Natasha turned and grinned at him, auburn hair falling over her shoulder. "Welcome to dubstep," she said.

"It sounds like garbage cans vomiting," he finally said, trying to come up with an accurate description.

"Pretty accurate, if we're being honest," said Steve. "Let's _not _listen to that." He switched it to a mellower station where a quiet alternative song was playing.

"Soldier," Ari whispered suddenly and he looked over to find her staring at him with what looked like _stars _in her eyes. Her face had lit up and she recklessly grabbed his cybernetic hand, seemingly forgetting that he didn't like to be touched. He was so startled by her actions and expressions that he didn't even pull away, merely stared at her in alarm.

"What?" he asked in a low voice.

"You said _you _don't like smooth jazz," she whispered excitedly. "And you said _you _like swing music! Did HYDRA let you listen to music?"

"No," he said confusedly—and then he froze as he realized what she was implying. HYDRA had never let him listen to music. Then how…would he have known that he liked swing music?

"Because Bucky Barnes liked swing music!" said Ari. "Your thoughts became continuous with Bucky's thoughts for a moment!" She squeezed his hand and he couldn't help but look down at her pale flesh hand holding his silver hand. She was holding his hand as if she couldn't feel any difference. He could feel her skin—his arm was advanced enough that he could feel sensation in it the same as his flesh hand, which was needed to accurate use of the arm. But no one had ever touched him like this. No one had ever touched his cybernetic hand so casually or so gently. Even the scientists at HYDRA had seemed a little uneasy around his arm. He didn't think he'd ever felt normal human touch like this…ever.

She noticed him staring at their hands and she quickly pulled her hands away. "Oh—sorry," she said, thinking he was uncomfortable with her touch. He didn't know how to tell her that…for the first time ever…he wasn't and he didn't mind her holding his hand. He'd never known how comforting human touch could be. But he couldn't possibly say things like that so he nodded and said, in a low voice, "It happened once before. I…I remembered that I hate burgers. Bucky Barnes hated burgers."

"Who," said Sam, poking his head between them, "the hell hates burgers?"

"Me," said the Winter Soldier, irritated that Sam had intruded upon this private conversation. It wasn't really _private_, since everyone in the car could hear it, but Steve and Natasha had had enough sense to pretend like they couldn't hear and had been chit-chatting aimlessly about the weather or something.

The next two hours passed in vague silence. Sam, Steve, and Natasha talked about irrelevant nothings and the Winter Soldier mostly listened. Ari listened at first but then she leaned her head against her window and stared at the passing scenery, seemingly lost in her own world. He wondered what she was thinking. Did she feel out of place? The Winter Soldier felt out of place at most moments of his life, but he at least felt at home with a crew of people who knew how to fight. Who knew what it meant to engage in these kinds of missions.

He leaned forward then and muttered something into Steve's ear. Steve looked at him, nodded once, and said, "In an hour or so, okay?"

"What?" asked Natasha.

"You'll see," he replied.

It would take them about five to six hours to get to where they needed to go, according to Natasha, who had looked up the decoded coordinates on her phone. "It's surrounded by mountains," she said, frowning at her phone. "I thought it was on the border—but it's not, it's further in." She looked up at Steve suddenly and asked, "Have you heard back from Stark yet?"

"No," said Steve briskly, "and I'm not sure I want to."

"Oh, come on, Steve," said Natasha. "He _did _help you remake your shield, you know. He's a good guy. Arrogant, sure, a bit weird, yeah. But he's a good guy."

"He thinks too much of himself and not enough of others," said Steve. "He's reckless."

"A little bit of fun never hurt anyone," smiled Natasha.

"Until it does," muttered Steve and her smile dropped off her face.

"When am _I_ going to meet the rest of the Avengers?" asked Sam. "Come on—Iron Man? That's insane. The Hulk? _Thor_?"

"I can introduce you to Tony," said Natasha. "Somehow I feel like you'd get along. As for Dr. Banner…well, he's not very easy to find. He's best left in peace. And Thor? Listen, I like Thor as much as the rest of you, he's a great guy—but if the Asgardians never come back to Earth, it'll be way too soon for me. I've had enough of aliens. First with New Mexico, then with New York…"

"What happened in New Mexico?" asked Sam.

"Oh, Loki trying to destroy stuff, as usual," said Natasha lightly. "And Thor—that was the first time he came down to Earth. _Literally_. Apparently the guy had a pretty swelled head…which Dr. Jane Foster managed to deflate."

"How do you know all this?" Sam asked curiously.

"I work for SHIELD," said Natasha. She paused and then slowly said, "Or…I _did _work for SHIELD…before SHIELD was exposed as HYDRA."

"Who's Dr. Foster?" Ari suddenly piped up. "Is she a medical doctor?" Perhaps being a nurse, her curiosity has been piqued.

Natasha chuckled. "No. She's an astrophysicist. Brilliant woman, actually, puts me to shame—which I can't say for many people. She works for SHIELD now. Or…yeah, she _did _work for SHIELD… I'm actually not sure where she is now. Maybe she's with Thor."

"With Thor?" asked Ari blankly.

"They kind of had a romance going on," explained Natasha.

"_Nice_," said Sam. "Nabbing a Norse god? Doc's gotta have some wicked game, I'm thinking."

The car fell back into silence for a while and the Winter Soldier rested his head against his window and watched the world rush past him in a blur. Green forests on either side of the highway, slate gray skies that looked a little stormy (or was that the window tint?) and mountains rising in the very far horizon like small shadows. He was feeling a bit anxious about the oncoming fight that was sure to be brutal and dangerous…but if he was being honest with himself, a part of him was glad to get back into the game. This was all he knew how to do and he was _good _at it. He was good at fighting and being good at it had made him happy in the past—or as close to true happiness his bland, watered-down, emotionless "happy" had been. He hadn't fought anyone except for Alex Madden in a long time and Alex Madden didn't count because he'd been an unskilled weakling. The Winter Soldier's muscles ached in ways different than the aches his illness had given him. He yearned to stretch his legs and dive back into combat, ducking, weaving, and spinning. He wasn't quite aware of it himself but whenever he'd fought with a group, his fellow HYDRA strike agents had watched him in admiration and fear out of the corners of their eyes. Watching the Winter Soldier fight was a beautiful thing (when they weren't the targets). He moved as fluidly as water, as quickly as a striking snake, graceful and lithe as a large jungle cat. He was as sure-footed as he was sure-handed and it seemed as if his weapons were merely extensions of his flesh-and-blood body, _that _was how expertly he wielded them. A true super-soldier.

The Winter Soldier wasn't aware how much time had passed but Steve was suddenly taking an lone exit devoid of any other drivers and quickly turned off onto a smaller, rougher road that trundled along for ten minutes before it stopped in a gravel-y parking lot that looked largely abandoned and had wooden park benches and tables in the grass around it.

Natasha had been leaning back in her seat, arms crossed, eyes closed. She looked asleep but the Winter Soldier wouldn't have put it past her to still be awake. Sure enough, when they stopped her eyes immediately opened and she asked, "Where are we?"

"Random rest stop," said Steve. "Bucky wanted us to teach Ari a few things about self defense and fighting."

"What?" asked Ari in horror, sitting up upright from her slumped position she'd held for a while. "No!" She looked at the Soldier and hissed, "What are you _doing_?"

"You can't walk into HYDRA blind," he said, annoyed.

"Yes, I can!" she said.

Steve turned around in his seat and calmly asked, "Would you let an amateur take care of a patient without giving them some lessons beforehand?"

"No," said Ari, looking flustered, "but lives would be at stake!"

Steve raised an eyebrow. "And they're _not_ here?"

"I—I can't fight, okay?" she said. "I'm not a fighter! I've never been in a fight before in my life!"

The Winter Soldier could tell.

"Alright, well, I'm going to sleep," said Natasha. "Sam's already asleep. You two teach her to shoot a gun or something and then wake me up when you get done." She settled back into her seat and closed her eyes.

The Winter Soldier, Ari, and Steve all got out of the car and then Ari crossed her arms, looking angry but more embarrassed. "Okay. What now?"

"We should teach her just the basics of self-defense," said Steve. "You know—knee to the ground, step to the side, knee into the back of their knees, twist arm…all that stuff."

"Uh…" Suddenly the Winter Soldier wasn't sure if he wanted to do this. It would feel a little awkward, mock-attacking his nurse. So he stepped back and said, "You do this part," and leaned against a bench to watch.

Ari was a surprisingly fast learner and she managed to lock down all of the skills Steve taught her. The Winter Soldier suspected it was because she was a nurse and had probably had to deal with rough or violent patients before; the firm way she'd held him when she bathed him (oh, how his face burned at the memory, even days later) told him as much. Of course, her movies didn't really work on Steve—a 115 pound young woman (or close enough) wasn't really a match for a 200 pound super-soldier—and he did look a little odd mock-attacking her…but she mastered the techniques well enough that they would work on an average man or woman with regular human strength.

After about 30 minutes of this, Steve stepped back and said, "Good job," in an impressed tone. "I've never seen anyone master those techniques so quickly. You have a great memory and quick reflexes."

"You can thank nursing school for that," she joked. "I'd have never passed if I didn't have those."

"Now all you need to know is how to shoot a gun," said Steve.

Ari paled slightly and her voice took on a wavery tone. "Do I _have _to?" she said, sounding a bit like a petulant child. "I just—I don't know—I _save _lives, I don't take them!"

"These aren't good people," said Steve seriously. "They _will _try to kill us all. They planned to kill millions of people on Earth just a few weeks ago. They've been torturing and using Bucky for decades. He's your patient, right? Well, think about that. Think about what they've done to your patient." The Winter Soldier shifted uncomfortably but let Steve keep talking. "Think about how they tortured him. Think about how they wiped his memories. Think about how they made him forget himself and spill innocent blood. And he's always going to feel guilty about that, even though it's not his fault at all. They've forced this weight and guilt onto him. How does that make you feel?"

"Like killing them," whispered Ari.

"Exactly," said Steve grimly. "Listen. I don't like killing _anyone_. Killing is wrong—we all know this. But I hate bullies and that's what these people are, magnified a hundred thousand times. They're monsters and they create—" He pause and the Winter Soldier felt as if a shard of ice had stabbed him in the gut. Had Steve been about to say _"monsters"_? Had he been about to call the Winter Soldier a monster? The Winter Soldier clenched his jaw and tried to ask himself why he even gave a damn if Steve called him a monster. He _was _a monster, was he not? So why did it even matter? Captain Liberty, Justice, and Freedom for All was only being honest, as he always was.

"Anyway," said Steve. "They do horrible things to innocent people. Killing is unavoidable, even if it's tragic. And I'd rather have a HYDRA agent killed than an innocent person like you. So yeah, you need to know how to shoot a gun. Got it?" His voice rang with authority.

"Got it," muttered Ari, still looking uneasy at the thought of wielding a gun.

"Bucky?" asked Steve, looking at him. "You want to take this one?"

The Winter Soldier had been all set to say "yes"—but a peculiar feeling overcame him at this moment as he stared at Ari, slightly open-mouthed. He didn't know what to say. It had been his idea to teach Ari how to defend herself and he was probably more well-versed in how to shoot a gun, though Steve obviously knew how to shoot a gun as well. But the Winter Soldier was the arms expert here. By all reason and rights, it should have been him teaching her how to…

Kill.

Because that's what guns did. They killed. They took lives. And if Ari used a gun—she would take a life. And while the Winter Soldier would obviously have preferred her to take a life rather than have her own life taken…he didn't want it to be by his hand. He'd already killed enough innocents (and some not-so-innocent people…but then, who was _he _to judge who deserved to live and die?). He didn't want to teach Ari how to shoot a gun—at least not by _his _hands. If he did, her killing power would come from him. If she took a life, it would be because of what he taught her. He would have corrupted another innocent person.

It didn't seem to make much sense even in his own head but he knew that he didn't want to teach Ari how to shoot a gun. Steve could do that. "I feel sort of sick," he said in a flat voice. "You can handle this." And he stalked off to get back into the Hummer, leaving Ari and Steve staring after him, clearly puzzled. Ari made as if to go after the Winter Soldier but Steve pulled her back and began to show her how to shoot a gun, a simple handgun. The Winter Soldier closed his eyes and looked away from the window. He wanted her to be able to defend herself but he didn't want to see this. It would remind him of all the harm he'd ever caused. Thirty minutes and several deafening shots later, Ari clambered into the car, looking sweaty and disheveled. Steve got into the car and Natasha's eyes immediately opened, like a dangerous and lazy cat. "You all done? How did Ari do?"

"Not bad," said Steve, sounding impressed again, backing out of the rest stop and heading back to the main highway. "You caught on pretty quickly. Are you sure you've never shot a gun before?"

"I may have taken a class when I was in high school," she said, smiling in an embarrassed sort of way. "I never went back because it was too…violent for me."

Natasha chuckled slowly. "You may be on the wrong adventure, sweetie."

"I'm here for Soldier," Ari said defiantly. "That's it. Okay? I don't abandon my patients."

The Winter Soldier wondered if this had anything to do with the fact that—whether intentionally or unintentionally—Ari's best friend and parents had abandoned her and left her alone in the world. He wondered if this had anything to do with why she'd taken care of him. Yes, she was a nurse, so she took care of people—but her loyalty and determination to keep him safe made him wonder how much if it was her own emotions manifesting in her treatment of him. How many times had she wanted someone to take care of _her_? Thinking about this made the Winter Soldier feel slightly sorry for her and incredibly uncomfortable so he tried to divert his thoughts by thinking about all the different ways he could confront the agents and scientists at the HYDRA facility.

Who would he even meet there? He hoped it was Alexander Pierce. He had some pent-up rage he needed to take out on that bastard. He wouldn't even waste time talking to him, demanding to know why he'd used him this way. He would simply rip his heart out of his chest and be done with it. He'd done it once before, buried his cybernetic hand into someone's chest and ripped their beating heart out. Only once, when HYDRA had wanted to viciously kill the man in front of his screaming wife, who had the answers to some questions they had. He'd killed her too, after she'd given the answers, though he'd shot her in the head.

The scenery around them got wilder and more isolated the further they traveled. It was actually further than Natasha's phone had estimated. They took an exit off the highway and traveled on a road that wound through mountains, encountering no one else along their way. The Winter Soldier wondered if that was normal or if HYDRA had somehow made that happen. They were capable of quite a lot.

They sat in silence—Sam had woken up by now but he didn't talk, which was somewhat surprising for him—and stared out the windows as Steve drove further and further on. Another hour passed and then Steve branched off onto an even smaller road that was gravelly and broken-up.

"Thank god for Hummers," muttered Natasha as they jerked over the terrible road, bouncing up and down. A few miles down the road Steve slowed to a stop and then parked. "We're here," he said.

"Where's…the building?" asked Ari.

"Two miles down the road," said Steve. "We can't just drive up to HYDRA's door and knock and say hello." He turned around to relay the plan and he had on his serious Captain America face then, the one that meant business and didn't tolerate any funny business. "Okay, this is how it's going to go down. Natasha, Sam, and I are going to head in first—see what kind of security they have, if there's any preliminary people we need to take out. Then, when the coast is clear, Sam will fly back to you two and fetch you."

"Fly?" demanded Ari. "What?"

"I got wings, girl," said Sam, smiling. "Watch and see."

Ari blinked, obviously lost.

"Why do I have to stay behind?" growled the Winter Soldier. He wasn't a damn child and he wouldn't let them treat him like one. This was humiliating and he wouldn't stand for it. Besides, he was much stronger than Black Widow and Falcon _combined_. It made no sense for him to stay behind—it would make more sense for one of them to stay with Ari. "I'm coming with you."

"Bucky, no," said Steve firmly. The Winter Soldier furiously opened his mouth to protest but Steve held up his hand to stop him and said, "I _know _what you're thinking. That you're stronger, faster, you know HYDRA better. That's true. But we don't know what's waiting for us and you're the most valuable person here. This whole mission will be a waste if you get taken out in the first ten minutes just because we walked in with you blind, without doing any recon."

"Soldier, it makes sense," said Ari. "We know you're a better fighter. But we shouldn't take any risks. You shouldn't risk your memories just to…"

"To _what_?" he demanded.

"Show off," she said pointedly and he was struck silent by the truth of her words. He didn't want to admit it, but he was trying to show off, trying to show that he was just as good. But would it be worth it, if he ended up getting hurt and never getting his memories back or finding out any truths?

"We'll be gone an hour _max_," said Steve. "It shouldn't take long to get there and check things out. Then we'll get back to you, alright? And Bucky?" He looked the Winter Soldier straight in the eyes. "If we don't come back…_don't _come in for us. Get away and get away fast. You have a civilian with you and you'll find another way to get answers. I'm counting on you. Got it?"

It was the last thing the Winter Soldier felt like doing, but he muttered, "Got it." The thought of Steve counting on him made him feel oddly important inside, but also slightly terrified of messing up and losing his best friend's faith in him. As he and Steve nodded at each other, Steve smiled slightly and the Winter Soldier felt like Bucky Barnes for a moment; in sync with Steve Rogers, on the same wavelength, counting on each other. He felt like Bucky and the words were almost on his tongue—"I'm with you till the end of the line"—but he stopped himself. It felt too heavy for the moment.

Steve, Natasha, and Sam got out of the car and suited up. "Don't look, boys," said Natasha while she changed in the back and every male studiously kept his gaze forward without daring to turn their heads an inch. Ari grinned at their statue-still poses. "Gentlemen, the whole lot of you," she teased.

"Well, two of us _do _come from a different era," said Steve, grinning, and then they took off. Steve and Natasha took off running and Sam followed suit for a moment—before the black contraption strapped to his back suddenly and effortlessly expanded into huge wings. He took a running leap and then flew into the air, soaring like an eagle, and Ari's jaw fell. "He has _wings_," she said weakly. "Iron Man is one thing—but he has _wings_!"

"I ripped one off in our last fight," remembered the Winter Soldier.

"Soldier, you need to control your temper," teased Ari. "Ripping out steering wheels, wings—what is this?"

The Winter Soldier awkwardly smiled. "I was…brainwashed?" and Ari laughed. They sat in silence for a few minutes and then Ari quietly asked, "Are you scared?"

He looked at her in surprise. "Of fighting? No."

"No…of learning about everything that was done to you. Everything they made you did."

The Winter Soldier's stomach clenched. "Yes," he said truthfully. "Are you scared?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Of what?" he asked, thinking that she was talking about the fighting—but she looked at him and he realized with shock that her face was pale and she actually _did _look scared.

"I'm scared for you," she said. "What if they—what if they—what if they capture you again and—and—" She didn't seem able to finish her sentence and took a deep breath. He realized that she was afraid HYDRA would somehow manage to re-capture him and wipe his memories again, resetting him back to zero. Turn him back into the icy Winter Soldier.

"I would have failed you," she said numbly. "I'm leading my patient into danger. You can get hurt. They could kill you. They could capture you. And if they did—if they did—I would _never _forgive myself. I would never…ever… I would never be able to live with myself if they got their hands on you and tortured you again. I—"

"Ari," interrupted the Winter Soldier, cutting off her babbling. "Listen. If they capture me…I'll kill myself before they do anything to me—"

"You think that makes me feel better?" she asked, her voice starting to sound a little wheezy, as if she couldn't breathe. "That you would have to _commit suicide_?"

"LISTEN," he said loudly. "That's just a…last resort. But they won't. They won't get their hands on me. I won't let them," he said, his voice turning ugly. "I'll kill every last one of them before they can. They're never going to control anyone ever again. And you…" He ran his hand awkwardly through his hair, trying to sound casual. "You're a great nurse. I could barely speak when I met you—"

"You can barely speak _now_, Mr. That Sucks," said Ari in a shaky voice, laughing slightly despite herself.

"Shut up," he said but she knew he wasn't being serious.

They fell back into silence and both stared out their windows, both equally anxious in their own ways. Ari was jittery, tapping her fingers against her thigh, jiggling her leg as fast as she could, biting her lip, constantly moving. The Winter Soldier froze, staring out the window. His anxiety was building and it made him feel locked into place, his muscles taut with tension, as if one wrong cue and he would explode into action and destroy everything in sight.

The minutes ticked by and soon an hour had passed. The Winter Soldier and Ari exchanged a glance but they didn't say anything. The minutes ticked by, slow as molasses and as quick as a hummingbird's wings all at the same time, and then another half hour had gone by and the Winter Soldier felt antsy.

"It's probably nothing," said Ari slowly. "I mean, holding them to exactly one hour would be sort of…"

"Right," he agreed, not sure what he was agreeing to. He looked out the window and tried not to panic. Where was Steve? Where were Natasha and Sam? Half an hour late wasn't too bad, Ari was right—there could be a million plausible, normal explanations for why they were only a half hour late—but he couldn't help but feel nervous. Steve wouldn't leave him hanging, so…

The hours ticked by and he kept looking at the wristwatch on his hand that Ari had given him. A minute passed. Then another. Then another. Ari seemed to be getting more and more jittery too, though she didn't speak. A worried frown was on her face and she was leaning forward, intently staring down the road as if to catch a sudden glimpse of Sam swooping at them. When exactly another half hour had passed, the Winter Soldier had to speak. "Something is wrong," he said darkly.

"I know," said Ari, looking upset. "Someone should have come by now." She looked at the Winter Soldier and swallowed. "Steve said to leave right away if they didn't come back."

"Right."

"He said he was counting on you to escape safely."

"Right."

Ari looked at him and he looked at Ari and for a moment they stared at each other and the Winter Soldier felt that feeling again—the feeling that he was somehow on the same wavelength as her—and she quickly asked, "We're not going to leave them, are we?"

"Hell no," he said quickly.

"Good," she said. "Let's go." And the Winter Soldier felt an immense weight lift off his chest. He'd been afraid Ari might shock him and actually suggest leaving, but no, she had behaved in typical Ari fashion and went straight for saving people over saving herself. It was starting to be one of the best things he liked about her, as much as it also irritated him.

They scrambled out of the car and he opened the trunk, surveying the weapons in the back. He grabbed a small bullet-proof vest and small combat pants (they were exactly Ari's size and no one here was as slender or petite as her, so he suspected that Natasha had specifically picked them up for her…which was nice of her, he grudgingly admitted) and tossed them at her, saying, "Suit up."

"Turn around," said Ari and he impatiently turned around, not even really noticing what she was saying. He had far more important things on his mind than to be as lecherous as to stare at Ari while she was changing. That sort of thing didn't interest him at all. She quickly changed and then he turned around and thrust a pistol and a dagger at her. "Strap these two to your belt," he commanded. When she did, he told her to tie her hair up and then he handed her black fingerless gloves that had silver spikes on the knuckles. "Use this as viciously as you can," he said. "The good thing is that they don't require much skill. Just go wild with them."

"I can do that," said Ari grimly.

He found some black combat fatigues his size as well and quickly stripped and changed into them, not even bothering to tell Ari to look away. Why would he? She was his nurse and she'd seen it all anyway—and she didn't seem to care. He pulled on a pair of black fingerless gloves himself and began strapping himself with the plethora of weapons he found in the back. Taking Ari's pony, he tied his hair back and then slammed the trunk shut, feeling odd. It had been weeks since he'd been in combat and yet he suddenly felt at home in this type of get-up again. This was what he was used to, what he had "grown up" with.

"Let's go," he said and he stalked off down the road, Ari hurrying to keep pace with him. They kept to the side of the road and stayed silent, not sure if they would be ambushed by anyone. The Winter Soldier felt impatient and kept wanting to break into a run—heavens knew it wouldn't tire him—but he knew Ari wouldn't be able to keep up with him. He also considered for a moment _carrying her _and running (she hardly weighed anything) but he didn't think Ari would agree to it so he settled for extremely fast fast-walking while she practically jogged to keep up. Too bad for her, this was as slow as he was willing to go. Steve was in trouble, he could feel it, and he needed to get inside HYDRA and figure out what could have gone so horribly wrong to stop _Captain America_ from returning to his best friend.

Oh, and Natasha and Sam were also in trouble too. He'd have to help them as well, since they were helping him. Though they were an afterthought to him. He wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice them if it meant saving Steve.

They walked for about fifteen minutes in pure silence and then they rounded a corner to see a two-story gray building with a ten-foot tall cement wall surrounding it. Part of the wall was a mesh gate which was…currently open. The Winter Soldier motioned for Ari to stay silent and covert and they crept towards the gate, sticking to the trees and then sticking to the cement wall. They inched towards the gate and he stepped inside, looking around very quickly to assess all points of the situation. He would have noticed if anyone were hiding around ready to attack…and there was no one. He narrowed his eyes, instantly suspicious. Something wasn't right. "Why isn't anyone around?" he murmured to himself, looking around warily.

"Maybe Steve and the rest got rid of them," said Ari very quietly.

This was possible, true…but still, something felt wrong. But he couldn't just stand here and wait for it to come to him, so he gave one last cursory glance around the empty yard and then headed across, striding quickly, keeping his body ducked a bit low. Ari followed suit and then they were pressed up against the wall next to the entrance doors. He squinted and peered inside the tinted glass. An empty hallway, clean, devoid of any struggle…or any humans. He could have smashed his way in—it would have been quicker—but it also would have been like yelling, "WINTER IS COMING," (the Winter Soldier had been keeping up with his _Game of Thrones _reading) with a megaphone. He bent low and quickly picked the lock, noting that it was far too easy to pick. Either this was a trap…or HYDRA didn't think anyone was stupid enough to directly pick the lock on their front door.

The doors swung open silently and they made their way inside, moving slowly but quickly, eyes quickly checking every corner. He noted that Ari had good instincts for someone who'd never done this before—her eyes immediately scanned every corner of the hall and she looked like she had her ears cocked to hear the slightest sound. If trained properly, she could make a very good agent. She certainly had an aptitude for using guns and self-defense combat.

They rounded the corner and the Winter Soldier's suspicions heightened. Alarm bells began to sound in his head as they encountered yet another empty hallway. The lights were all on, the doors were all held ajar—revealing random offices and rooms with gurneys and trays of medical tools—but no one was around. The lack of dust and debris told the Winter Soldier that this place wasn't abandoned by any means…so then where was everyone? He could sense a trap somewhere but the problem was he didn't know _where_. He'd never bothered to figure out HYDRA's tricks before, always having been one of them, and now he had a feeling they'd pay the price. Even going back wasn't an option because he couldn't leave Steve and Ari would never agree.

They turned another corner to a much wider, much larger room that didn't lead anywhere in particular. The ground was inlaid with silver grooves in a grid pattern and so was the ceiling, the Winter Soldier noted. He frowned. What were these grooves?

"Keep moving," whispered Ari and he stepped forward onto the grooved floor, hesitantly—

Nothing happened. He walked forward cautiously, eyes scanning the entire room. A large, sleek flat screen TV hung on an opposite wall but it was dark. The walls of the room held several doors and he wondered which one to take. Which one would lead to Steve and the others…wherever they were?

"Soldier," called Ari from a few feet away. Her head was cocked and she was staring curiously at the ground of the wall opposite her. "Soldier, why are there so many wires going into the roof?"

He slowly turned and focused his gaze on what she was saying. There was a huge, thick bundle of wires (red, black, and copper) that were tied together every few feet and snaked along the floor until they split up. Half of them were nailed up the wall and vanished into the ceiling and half of them vanished into a hole cut neatly into the ground. He frowned, staring hard at the wires… Why was this bothering his mind so much? What was he missing? And for a long moment, he was mystified.

And then he looked down and up at the silver grooves that were laid in an identical grid pattern above and below them, forming squares large enough for a person to stand within their confines…

It suddenly hit him.

"ARI, COME HERE!" He lunged for her but before he could, there was a deafening thrumming and _zinging _sound and then he was staggering back, letting out a stream of filthy curses as he cradled his burned flesh hand and smelled the singed skin and hair around him and heard Ari's cries of shock and all he could see was golden, golden, golden.

The grids at his feet and on the roof formed some sort of track and in between each the lines now flowed thin lines and waves of crackling and hissing and brilliantly burning golden light very similar to electricity. They were set so closely together that he couldn't even through a dagger out of them. Four walls of these electrical lines boxed him in as if he were in a prison with four sides—except the walls and bars were made out of electricity, not metal. He could only shuffle around a bit but he couldn't run through the wall or even stick his hand through without completely burning and shocking himself to death.

Through the electric bars burning his gaze, he could see that Ari was locked in a similar cage a few feet away. "What kind of technology is this?" she shouted through the sound of the electricity at him. "I've never heard of electrical walls!"

_I don't know. _He mouthed the words but they wouldn't come out. He'd led Ari straight into a trap—and this was one trap even the Winter Soldier couldn't get himself out of.

"Are you okay?" she called to him. "I heard you cry out—did you get burned?"

Ever the nurse, she was. "I'm fine," he called. "You?"

"Yeah," she said after a pause. "Yeah."

Good. Because the Winter Soldier didn't know how much longer they'd be _fine_. They both stood there, waiting for something to happen, and they were rewarded by the TV screen across from both of them flickering to life to display the face of possibly one of the ugliest men the Winter Soldier had ever seen. He had a pale face, fleshy and overinflated pink lips, and a bulbous nose. The Winter Soldier didn't remember ever seeing him during his time at HYDRA before. He coughed, cleared his throat, and then smiled at both of them. "I'm glad to see these cages work."

The Winter Soldier and Ari were both silent. Ari, he wasn't sure why. But _he _was silent because he knew he had to get this part over with. The bad guys always had to give a gloating speech before they got down to business. He would know, he'd heard Agent Rumlow give one enough times in the last decade. He considered them pathetic, really—what was the need to use so many pointless words?—but he'd always kept his mouth shut about them.

"Good of you to join us again, Soldier," said the doughy-faced man and the Winter Soldier felt a prickle on his spine at the man's usage of _Ari's _nickname for him. But, of course, that was wrong—HYDRA had called him "Soldier" long before she had. He'd almost forgotten, because the name had taken on new meaning for him.

"Let _her _out," said the Winter Soldier, gesturing to Ari. "She has nothing to do with this."

"Ah, ah!" said the man. "All in good time, my friend. Now…why don't you tell me why you've come back to us today?"

The Winter Soldier remained silent and furiously glared at the man.

"Come now, my dear fellow, I have only a short amount of time to do this…before people who are not as pleasant as me decide to speak with you. You won't like that, I promise you."

The Winter Soldier opened his mouth and told the man _exactly _what he could do with his "lack of time", letting loose a sentence of language so foul that he could practically _hear _Ari's jaw hitting the floor. After he was done, the man in front of him distastefully looked at him, like the Winter Soldier was a disgusting piece of garbage on the ground and said, "Now, really, is that any way to treat someone who was being so civil to you? I won't ask you again, Soldier. Why are you here?"

The Winter Soldier couldn't tell them why he was here, because the second they knew what he was after, they'd destroy all his files and ruin everything for him. So he just shouted, "Where's Captain America, Black Widow, and Falcon?" in response, his rage mounting with every second he was trapped in this infernal electrical box. God, what he wouldn't give to have a machine gun and blast that TV to smithereens in seconds.

The man swallowed and looked a little angry now. "I thought I told you I wouldn't ask again. Fine. I told you wouldn't like this…but there you have it. You've brought this pain upon yourself, my dear fellow. Perhaps after you've had a nice dose, you'll be more willing to talk."

"Stop!" Ari shouted at the screen but it had already blinked out. She turned wildly to the Winter Soldier and hurriedly said, "Soldier—Soldier, no matter _what _they do, keep focus and _don't _tell them anything, okay!"

"I won't," he promised. He gritted his teeth and steeled his nerves for the torture that was coming very shortly. This would not be pleasant at all but he'd been tortured before; he could handle it. He would _make _himself handle it, for the sake of his own past and humanity. They both waited for a few agonizing seconds, wondering what would happen next—and then the doors to their right burst into and several heavily muscled men marched in, wearing black combat fatigues. The Winter Soldier expected them to come to his cage and grab him—

But they headed for Ari's cage. Her electric walls blinked out as whoever was controlling them turned them off and she took a step back, extremely pale-faced. Two huge men grabbed her by each arm and the Winter Soldier blinked, feeling slow and stupid and dizzy for a moment. He couldn't understand why they were taking Ari, when _he _was the one they were supposed to be torturing. And then it hit him like a truckload of bricks and he yelled, "STOP! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO TAKE _ME_!"

"Shut up, pretty boy," said one of the men, pointing a gun at him. "You're next. I see the Winter Soldier's gone soft, eh? All those stories I heard about you and what do I find? A weakling giving himself up for the girl. What a sad cliché."

"We're not a cliché," spat Ari. "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? Typical muscle-headed, brainless—" One of the men holding her slapped her so hard her head snapped to the side and her cheek was left with a bright red handprint and the Winter Soldier couldn't help but wince.

"Look this way," said the man pointing the gun straight at his neck and then he pulled the trigger. The Winter Soldier expected a gun blast and then immense pain before a quick death—but instead all he felt was a tiny pinch in his neck. He slowly looked down to see a dart sticking out of his neck, tiny enough that it had flown through the electrical bars. Almost immediately he could feel his limbs begin to lose function, becoming numb and weak and limp, like spaghetti. He staggered back and the electrical bars around him clicked off _just _in time as he fell to the floor. Had they shut off a nanosecond too late, he would have fried himself to death just by falling.

But he could still feel and hear and see and he was still conscious. It was just that he could barely move. The man who'd had the gun grabbed him and hauled him up, supporting him. He dragged the limp Winter Soldier through a door and then propped him on a bench so the Winter Soldier could stare straight ahead.

"This is a paralyzer," the man said, smiling maliciously and clumsily patting the Winter Soldier's head in a mocking, degrading fashion. "You'll still be conscious and you can see and hear everything. You just won't be able to move or speak. You can close your eyes too, but I'd keep them open if I were you."

The Winter Soldier felt woozy—what did they have planned for him? He _still _didn't comprehend what was happening until he realized the wall only three feet opposite from him was made entirely of glass and the other two guards had dragged Ari in and sat her on a wooden chair, tying her to it. She glared defiantly at both of them and then she looked up and noticed the Winter Soldier sitting limply on his bench in the other room, staring at her. Her eyes widened with horror and she said, "I can take it, Soldier. Okay? Don't speak," and her words came as clear as day to him. The sheet of glass must have been very thin or perhaps there were holes or speakers somewhere.

It was clear that Ari had understood what was going but the Winter Soldier _still _felt a bit disoriented. It wasn't until a guard walked into Ari's room carrying a jingling metal bag, set the bag down, shut the door, and slid out a long metal pole…it wasn't until _then _that the Winter Soldier realized what was going to happen. And then he felt beyond stupid for not realizing before but more than feeling stupid, he felt intense horror. He should have seen this coming. He had worked for HYDRA. He knew what they were capable of. He had _helped _them do things like this before.

He should never have brought Ari here.

The guard turned and winked at the Winter Soldier. "I hope you enjoy watching your friend get tortured," he said and then he turned his back on the Winter Soldier to face Ari.

And then the screaming started.

And the Winter Soldier could only sit there and watch and listen.

On and on and on, it echoed in his head and made him want to take his cybernetic hand and rip his own heart out and rip his ears off. He wanted to rip Ari's heart out to stop her from going through this. He would have done it, too, had he been able to move. He closed his eyes but all he could hear were her screams.

Death would have been preferable.


	10. Chapter 10

_Note: So…I apologize in advance for the violence! I actually didn't think I'd have violence in this story…but it went where it had to! Sorry if this chapter was a little shorter than my previous ones—but it's a bit heavy so I decided to cut it short. OH, and I'm sorry if the ending is a little confusing and makes you go, "Wait, what?" Don't worry, it will all be explained in the next chapter! Thank you to everyone who's reading and I'd love to see more reviews! They absolutely make my day! _

The Winter Soldier drifted.

Once upon a time, he had only had one steel cable that connected him to reality. Once upon a time he'd been a man without a name or a face or a past—an enigma, a dangerous parcel, a weapon. He had had no connections to anyone or anything and the only thing that connected him to reality had been the steel cable that wrapped around his neck like a noose and bound him permanently to HYDRA. They were all he knew and they were all he had. He was linked to them and they owned him. One misstep and the cable around his neck would tighten and he would be reset back to zero. No matter how far he went, he was always tethered to HYDRA. No matter how far he went, it was never far enough, because they always had full control over him.

When HYDRA had broken down and he'd made his bewildered and angry escape, he'd only been half a free man. The cable that bound him to HYDRA had thinned, fraying in the middle, allowing him to run beyond their grasps for the first time in his life—but the cable was still _there_. For every five steps he took forward, the cable jerked him a step back. His memories, his illness, his confusion, his anger…all of them helped him stay connected. He was a man possessed and a man obsessed. He wanted nothing more than to get away from HYDRA, but he wanted nothing more than to go back to them and find—what? Answers? The questions and obsession had eaten away at his insides as he had stumbled through the woods, burning his mind and leaving a brand upon his mind. He felt as if HYDRA's logo was forever burned into his eyes and tongue. The steel cable was still there.

And then he had met Ari and everything had changed. He'd been reluctant, suspicious, at first…but she had slowly won him over. He had fought bitterly against the admittance of the fact, but he eventually admitted it: she was a good friend, a friend he never thought he'd have. Her presence weakened the steel cable even more. The steel cable wasn't gone but it was thinner now, weaker. If it had snapped, the Winter Soldier might have been lost forever. But he formed different bonds. More delicate ones, light, ones that didn't wrap around his neck and choke him. Gentle bonds that tied him to Ari. When he met Steve, he formed another bond. Even meeting Natasha and Sam…he formed more bonds. He had connections tying him to reality. People to care for. People who cared for him, no matter how undeserving he was of their care.

But that all changed in the next few hours. The Winter Soldier felt all his connections to reality snapping as if someone had snipped them with a pair of scissors and he drifted. It was as if only half of him was there. He could see, could hear, could _feel _Ari's pain. The punches. The kicks. The cuts with the switchblade. The man beating her did it slowly, enjoying the game. Ari, for her part…Ari displayed strength that the Winter Soldier had never dreamed she could possess. She never spoke except to spit at the guard—and to scream. The Winter Soldier's ears and spine prickled and he wanted to vomit, except he couldn't move. His heart was pounding frantically and he wanted so badly to scream, to yell, to throw himself against the glass and go crashing through and pound the man's face until his bones were splinters and brain matter seeped across the floor among bits of broken skull and blood…

But he couldn't move.

His head felt like it was being smashed at with white-hot hammers and his stomach roiled and burned as if someone had force-fed him battery acid. He sat there limply, alternating between opening his eyes to see Ari get hit again and again and again and again—

Or closing his eyes and drifting. When he drifted, he could _almost _not feel or see or hear. Her sounds of pain dulled to a hollow, aching throb, as if she were being tortured underwater, somewhere far away from him… He floated through the darkness, hoping against hope when he opened his mouth he would see nothing but darkness and that when he opened his mouth it would be packed with dirt and he would realize that he had died a long time ago and been buried and left to rot, forgotten and alone. He hoped he would open his eyes and see darkness and pale purple and slippery, bloated skin floating off his bones, that he had fallen out of the helicarrier and drowned in the Potomac River…

_"I'm with you till the…" _The what? Who was with him? Till the end of what? The Winter Soldier felt himself slipping away. He opened his eyes slowly, as if moving underwater, and felt himself retreat further inside himself. Pain. He could not feel this pain. He could not take this pain. Bucky Barnes could have— No. Bucky? Who was Bucky? Bucky was a man who felt. _He _was the Winter Soldier. He was ice. This didn't bother him. This didn't bother him at all. He stared dully through the glass where—how long had it been? Hours—Ari lay on the ground, stirring slightly, and the man stepped in a circle around her and the Winter Soldier tried to convince himself that he was ice, he felt nothing, he was nothing. But he couldn't stop the feeling of low, burning rage and fear and pain and he couldn't help but taste the coppery phantom blood on his tongue that he so badly wanted to reveal. Pull out a nice—no use his bare hands—and bury his hand into the man's neck, ripping out his trachea and jugular vein, soft and leaking red blood… Rip him apart like he was a toy filled with stuffing. Expose his stuffing. Paint the walls red with his insides.

But all he could do was drift. His strength was coming back, _very _slowly. He could stir slightly now, move ever so slightly. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't even close to enough.

Ari was on the ground, still. Was she dead? The Winter Soldier numbly stared at her, unable to make himself contemplate the idea. The man knelt by her and took out a switchblade, leaning over her exposed right forearm—and no, she was still alive, because now she was thrashing slightly, a piteous keening, wailing sound escaping her mouth. She had screamed herself hoarse and now all she could do was let out a thin sound of pain, like a dying kitten. It was as if she had lost the energy to scream. The man held her down and continued to cut into her arm while she feebly fought against him. Then he crawled over to her other side and bent over her left exposed forearm, cutting into her arm there as well. The Winter Soldier could see thin trickles of red blood leaking down her arm. Blood. There was blood in that room, he could see blood on the floor, blood on her face, blood on her clothes.

And then the man stood up, sweating, and smiling. He looked pleased. The Winter Soldier stared at him and thought to himself that he would take his knife one day and carve a permanent smile on the man's face, ear to ear. He would grin for forever. The man said something into a black walkie-talkie and then walked out of the room, leaving Ari laying on the floor, unmoving.

"Did you enjoy that, Soldier?" came a voice from a loudspeaker in the Winter Soldier's room. There was a pause, and then—"Oh, dear me, I'm so sorry. I just remembered. You can't speak!" A sickening little laugh. "Well, anyway…I hope that little—er—_display _was enough to convince you to behave. I'll leave you for a few hours to regain your strength, the serum should be wearing off soon… And then we'll chat again, shall we? Perhaps this time you'll be more accommodating." Another pause, and then, "Oh, and you will of course be reunited with your friend. Tough little thing, isn't she? I've seen grown men pass out more quickly than she did. Never let it be said that HYDRA is not merciful." The speaker crackled and then went silent.

The Winter Soldier watched, stirring ever so slightly, as a different man walked into Ari's room, picked her up and slung her over his shoulder, and then came next door, kicking the door open and laying Ari on the floor. He slammed the door shut behind him and the Winter Soldier heard a lock click behind the man. He stared at Ari from the bench, trying—and failing—to will his muscles to move, move, _move_. Ari was pale and her eyes were closed; she wasn't conscious. She was too far for the Winter Soldier to quite see the extent of her injuries, but he could see that her face and arms were bruised and bloody, her hair matted and messed up, her breathing shallow. She wasn't in a good place at all.

He tried to inch himself forward and managed to move enough to…completely fall off his bench and smash face first into the floor. He winced in pain but couldn't move enough to get up or turn his head. Wonderful. He supposed he should just be grateful he fell with his face on his side instead of nose-first into the ground. Then he would have been laying facedown suffocating in a pool of his own blood. His head was turned so that he could see the top of Ari's head and he stared at her tangled dark brown hair, willing her to move—wake—show some sign that she was still alive. Because if she wasn't… Then not only would the world have lost someone very important, but he would carry that for the rest of his life. He was a menace. He couldn't be around normal society, even when he wasn't working for HYDRA. Everything he touched turned to ashes. Look at what he had done to Ari. He should have insisted on leaving her home. Why had he brought a civilian here?

His own selfish desires. She was a safe anchor for him, something to calm him when the storm overtook his mind. And he was terrified he might lose it if she wasn't around to look him in the eye and firmly say, "Breathe. You can get through this. What memory was it this time?"

_Follow her advice, Bucky. Breathe. _The thought rang in his head before he could even comprehend what he was thinking. And then he realized. He'd called himself Bucky. He was Bucky. Was he?

What would James Buchanan Barnes have done in this situation?

_Nothing. He would never have gotten himself into this situation_, he thought blindly. _He was a hero. I'm no hero_.

He wasn't a hero. But he was a good villain. And when he regained use of his body, he would show HYDRA exactly _why _he was such a good villain. The dog would turn on its masters and the masters would not live to regret their actions.

As the minutes ticked by, agonizingly slow, he felt the use of his muscles and strength slowly returning. First it was slight—just slight movements of his fingers, twitching and moving them. Then his arms and legs, moving them slightly and then more and more. Two hours had passed at this point. Even though it was painful and frustrating to only be able to move his body slightly, he kept trying. Another hour passed and now he could move every body part, albeit very slowly, as if he were a sore old man. He slowly pushed himself up, his arm muscles trembling a little bit with the effort, a bit of spit leaking out of the corner of his mouth. He moved into a sitting position and slumped against the bench, wiping his mouth, sweating. He sat there for a half hour, regaining his strength and use of his limbs, and then when he felt like he could sufficiently move, he crawled over to Ari.

He knelt near her body and looked at the ceiling for a moment. He was afraid of looking down, afraid of what he would see. What if he no longer saw a pulse? What if he no longer saw the rise and fall of her chest? What would he do? Ari would want him to be Bucky Barnes and take the heroic high road. But the Winter Soldier had a strong feeling he wouldn't be that gracious.

He slowly looked down and was relieved to see Ari breathing and a pulse going normally in her neck that he bent over and closed his eyes. Her face was bruised and she had a black eye. A split lip. Countless cuts on her cheek and arms and collarbone area. Her feet. Every part of her was beginning to bruise—they would be hideously purple tomorrow (if they lived until tomorrow)—but for now she just looked battered and bloody. He inspected her more carefully, not willing to touch her, and realized that the blood made the wounds look far worse than they were. Not that her wounds were light; they weren't. She'd gone through an epic beating. But he was confident she would live.

He looked down at her forearm—and froze. Crudely carved into her forearm were three words: THE WINTER SOLDIER SALUTES YOU. His mouth went dry as ash and his stomach began churning, the pounding in his head increasing suddenly. He slowly looked at her other arm and saw, with a sickening jolt, that the same words had been carved into her other arm. Shallow enough that they hadn't hit bone but deep enough that they would leave scars forever.

Ari would always have his name carved into her arms. He had tainted her. He couldn't help himself—he let out a low groan and lurched desperately into the corner, bending over and vomiting. He didn't know whether the nausea was from the serum or from what he had just seen, but he bent over, retching. He didn't have much in his stomach, so only pinkish-clear spit and foam and bile came out, his eyes watering with the effort to heave. He kept coughing and heaving, feeling as he might vomit up his insides. He bit the inside of his mouth to keep from screaming at the top of his lungs and salty, copper-and-rust tasting blood mixed in with the bile in his mouth, making him gag and retch even _more_. The whole ordeal took so much effort that he eventually collapsed, his eyes burning and mouth slick with spit and bile, whole body shaking with anger and terror and the effort it had taken to dry-heave. He closed his eyes and…

_He was standing at the foot of someone's bed, his arms crossed, staring down at Steve, who was laying back in bed, looking pale and weak—although he still had his usual dopey smile on his face. That smile infuriated him and he snapped, "Stop grinning like an idiot. What were you thinking, going out to do errands in the rain? Are you TRYING to die on me?"_

_ "It's just a cold, Buck," said Steve, coughing. His face was deathly pale but his cheeks were bright pink, his eyes glittering with fever. _

_ "Cold my ass!" he replied, exasperated. "You—you absolute idiot—"_

_ Steve shrugged. "I had to make money," he said._

_ His anger rose. "You— I can help you out with money, you _know _that! Stop doing stupid things like this, okay?" Steve's mother had died a few months ago and now Steve was all alone. He worried about him constantly and was forever dragging him over to his house so his mother could feed Steve and try to convince him to live with them. But Steve would cheerfully refuse, preferring to say, "I'm going to make my own way." Whatever the hell _that _meant. And he was afraid Steve would get himself killed in the process. And, if he was being honest, who would care if the skinny little boy from Brooklyn disappeared? Bucky was all he had and he didn't understand why Steve wasn't relying on him. Wasn't he his best friend? _

_ "Fine, then I'm going to watch over you," he said briskly, stomping over to Steve's childhood rocking chair (peeling yellow paint crackled against his back as he slammed himself down into the seat). "Don't even try to make me go away."_

_ "I won't," coughed Steve, "because I'd do the same for you. But you never get sick…"_

The Winter Soldier felt sick now. He lay there, eyes closes, on the cold ground. His head was throbbing and his stomach felt empty and burned out and he felt stiff and sore. But he had to be strong, for Steve's sake. For Ari's sake. Even for Natasha and Sam's sake. He didn't know what had happened to the other three, but everyone was in danger—and they had all done it for them. The least he could do for them was to set aside his illness and kill everyone in HYDRA as revenge.

"Good," came a faint voice near him and his eyes snapped open. "You're awake."

He sat up and inched himself over to Ari, who was also sitting up and looked extremely worse for the wear. He hesitated as he took in her terrible appearance. He wanted to say something, but it was like someone had ripped his tongue out. He was silent and merely looked at her.

She coughed and then looked at him, He was shocked for a moment to see her glaring at him but then he figured he deserved it. However, when she spoke, he was surprised again. "Soldier," she began, wincing as she spoke, trying to slowly comb down her hair. "If you try to blame yourself for this…I swear to god, by all the powers vested in me, I will utilize every last bit of medical knowledge I have to surgically cut you open, rip out your guts, and strangle you with them."

Well then. The Winter Soldier blinked for a second and then _he_ glared at her. "You're the most foolish person I've ever met," he snarled. "Do you think your selflessness will save your life? It won't! It'll get you killed!"

"Then let me worry about my own life," she snapped, leaning forward as if to jab her finger into his chest. "You worry about _your _life! I can hold my own, Soldier."

"I can hold my own, too," he shot back.

She raised her eyebrows and said, "Then let's hold our own _together_. We know we can handle this."

The Winter Soldier bit back a furious retort, itching to say that she was a too good for her _own _good, but he grudgingly said, "Fine." He was surrounded by people filled to the brim with goodness and martyrdom and he realized he was going to have to roll with it. They were inherently good just as he was inherently bad, and if they accepted his horrible flaws, he'd have to accept their flaws (for that's what they were, in his mind) as well. The flaw of being too good, too heroic. But that was who Ari and Steve were.

"Not _so_ selfless," Ari added, seeing and accurately guessing what his brooding expression meant. "Do you know what I want to do?"

"What?"

"I want to go out there—and skin that man alive," she whispered, her voice trembling with hate and anger. "And I want to leave him hanging from the ceiling to die."

"I can make that happen," said the Winter Soldier grimly

"Good. I look forward to it." Ari leaned over and then winced, laying back with a gasp as fresh blood trickled from a cut in her side. He started forward in alarm, hovering over her and completely unsure of what to do, but Ari waved him away, saying, "There's nothing you can do."

He leaned back against the bench, clenching and unclenching his cybernetic hand and feeling the fury build in his body, his eyes closed. He opened his eyes and gritted his teeth. Ari was a good person. He wasn't a good person, he never would be—but what he _could _be was strong. He was a fighter, a villain, and he would stay strong till the end of this story. Ari had been strong for him. Ari had taken the beating, had taken the torture in his place. She had screamed for hours while he had drifted, untethered to anything in reality, and even when her screams had subsided into high-pitched keening wails and whimpers, the way an animal would do right before death, he had still drifted and allowed her to take his beating. He should never have done that. Ari was a civilian. He was…the Winter Soldier. He was a soldier. He was born for this. He had been tortured before. Alexander Pierce would tilt his chin up, look him in the eye, and coldly say, "He needs another dose, I think," and then they would drag him to that infernal _chair_—

No. It wouldn't do to think about that place. The fact remained that Ari had been strong for him. Even before she'd been tortured, she'd been strong since she met him. Her will was that of iron and he had found that even he, the most dangerous person he knew, could not bend it. Nothing on this planet could make Ari sway or could intimidate her. He still remembered grabbing her arm, twisting, and demanding, "Tell me," in the parking lot of the hospital…and he remembered her turning her powerful blue eyes on him and slowly telling him he would _not _treat her this way. He remembered letting go of her arm as if he'd been burned, feeling like she had slapped him across the face, his cheeks burning with anger and shame. She had yanked him back to reality every time he had started to drift, had _demanded _his attention with her calm voice and generous nature.

And he had drifted while she screamed. He wouldn't do that again.

Suddenly the lock clicked loudly and the door opened. Before the Winter Soldier could even get to his feet, a guard had tossed in a bright blue bag that hit the floor with a thud and slammed the door shut again. The lock clicked shut and just like that, they were alone again.

"That's a first aid bag," said Ari, her voice a little faint and wheezy, staring at the blue cross on the bag. "Soldier…you need to help me dress my wounds. Come over here." The Winter Soldier inched over to her and they spent the next hour slowly dressing her wounds. She instructed him on what to do, wincing and groaning the whole time and letting out small shrieks of pain through gritted teeth when he applied alcohol to her cuts and scrapes to disinfect them. When he was done, he sat back and surveyed his work. She was covered in bandages and she still had dried blood on her even though they'd tried to wipe it off best that they could. Her face was starting to bruise in several places and she had a black eye. Her face and arms were covered in small cuts and the Winter Soldier had wrapped her arms in more cloth than was necessary because seeing the words THE WINTER SOLDIER SALUTES YOU carved into them made him sick.

"I feel like a semi-truck ran me over," she groaned, trying to stretch and wincing in pain the whole time. "Two thousand times."

"You look like it, too," he offered.

Her mouth fell open and she stared at him, shock bordering on amusement. "You…you seriously don't know how to talk to women, _do _you?" She shook her head in disbelief.

"What?" he demanded. "You look terrible."

"I know, but word to the wise, Soldier?" She smiled and the movement seemed painful since it split open her lip again and she winced, beads of blood appearing. "Never tell a woman she looks bad. Even if she was just tortured."

The Winter Soldier silently handed her a cotton swab to dab away the blood and privately thought to himself that women were absolutely mental creatures that he would never understand.

Ari slowly scooted over and sat next to him, leaning her head on the bench like he was. They both listlessly stared at the glass in front of them, dried streaks of Ari's blood marring it. They were silent for a long time and then the Winter Soldier quietly said, "You have a high pain tolerance," while staring at the glass. It wasn't a question, just an observation. Ari had held out for almost all of the beating she'd received, fainting only at the end, and she was behaving relatively normal right now for someone who should have been curled up and crying from the pain.

"I used to play a lot of sports as a kid," replied Ari, still staring at the glass too. "And I've been in a few car accidents."

The Winter Soldier slew his eyes at Ari and noticed she was absentmindedly tapping her thigh and chewing her lip, making it bleed again. She didn't even seem to notice and he sighed, handing her another cotton swab. Then he folded his arms, feeling his full strength returning slowly, and said, "Let's try the truth this time." He knew Ari well enough by this point to recognize her lying tics. Biting her lip was one of them.

She looked at him, trying to act innocent for a moment—but when she saw he wasn't fooled, her face fell and she returned to staring at the glass. After a moment— "Alex used to…sometimes beat me up too." She sighed and rubbed her nose, which had a cut on it, and let out a hiss of pain under her breath. "There. Now you know how lame I am."

"Is there anything your brother _didn't _do?" the Winter Soldier asked pleasantly, his voice simmering with anger underneath. "Besides making you and your parents' lives miserable, beating you up, breaking the law, stealing your best friend, and killing your parents?"

Ari thought for a moment. "He hasn't robbed anyone yet."

"Reassuring," the Winter Soldier muttered under his breath.

"So what's the plan?" she murmured to him.

"Break out of here," he said.

"_Shhh_!" she said, eyes darting to the ceiling of the room, scanning all corners even though her normal eyesight would never catch the tiny red gleam of a camera. "They're probably watching us right now!"

"They're probably not," he murmured. "You don't know HYDRA like I do. This facility seems high-tech…but it's nothing compared to the ones I…" His jaw tensed. "…_lived _in." There was an awkward pause because both of them knew that whatever the Winter Soldier had been doing at the HYDRA headquarters, it certainly couldn't have been qualified as "living." He barreled on, trying to make the dark moment go away. "I'm sure they have cameras watching us but they seem short-staffed. I doubt they have someone watching us 24/7 and listening to us. They're too confident we won't escape."

"But we will, right?" Ari asked anxiously. "Because I kind of really don't want to die here. I still have a lot of things on my bucket list."

The Winter Soldier frowned, confused. "On your _what _list?"

"A list of things to do before you die," she explained. "Like…Like travel around Asia. Or sky-dive. Or make a wish at the Trevi Fountain."

"Why is it called a _bucket _list?"

"Oh—because of the phrase. You know? To die is to 'kick the bucket'. So…" Ari shook her head. "Wait—why are we talking about this? We were talking about how to get out of here."

"Let me think about it," said the Winter Soldier absentmindedly, scanning the room. He got to his feet and walked around the room. His gait was a bit off (as he was sure Ari's sharp eyes had caught, considering the way she was giving him a hard glance) but he could feel his normal agility return even more quickly as the last effects of the serum wore off him. He'd thought that torturing him—or even wiping his memories—was the worst thing HYDRA could have done to him. He was now uncomfortably aware that he had been wrong. He had a prickly feeling under his arms because he was sweating slightly and he turned his back on Ari to avoid looking at her injuries because they filled him with an incredible amount of guilt and confusion. This was being human, wasn't it? Caring about the welfare of others. Well…it was more exhausting than people like Ari and Steve made it seem. Ari had taken care of him like it was nothing, but after seeing Ari tortured…the Winter Soldier was torn between wanting to fiercely protect her _and _also sprinting for the hills to never come in contact with humans or human emotions ever again. Human emotions _hurt_. Were they really worth it?

He ran his fingers over the walls and the glass, pressing lightly and peering at every crack and corner closely to see if there were any ways out when suddenly Ari spoke from the ground: "Who's Connie?"

He stiffened at the name—

_He turned his head and saw the girl walking past the diner, smiling and chatting with her friends. Petite with a round face, dimpled cheeks, and short dark hair, she was one of the cutest girls he'd ever seen. Her name was Connie, he'd asked the owner of the diner that, and he wanted to take her out. _

_ Connie pushed into the diner, a pack of her giggling friends following her, and as she walked past the bar stool where he sat, he abruptly stood up—and surreptitiously spilled his cream soda all over her navy dress. She leaped back with a gasp and he feigned a look of horror and shock on his face as well. _

_ "Oh god!" he said, grabbing a handful of napkins and dabbing the waist of her dress. "I'm so sorry! I didn't see you at all."_

_ "It's—it's fine," she said, clearly flustered. She took the napkins from him and dabbed at her dress, looking down at it mournfully. It had been made of old material ("We musn't be frivolous during these times, Connie," her mother had said, "but here, this is what we'll do—we'll take an old dress of yours and rework it in a current fashion! Won't it be just _darling_?" And indeed, it had been just darling) but it was a new dress. Or…it had been. _

_ She looked up at him for the first time—and froze when she realized he was incredibly handsome and he was smiling at her. "What?" she said loudly, making her friends whisper and giggle. Her mother had always told her that young ladies were supposed to be quiet and gentle, but Connie was naturally excitable. _

_ "Say, why don't you let me take you out to make up for this?" he asked, smiling down at her. "My name is Bucky Barnes."_

_ "Connie Capone," she replied, though he had already known that._

_ "Nice to meet you, Connie Capone," he said. "I'll meet you here Friday night at 7 and then we'll go somewhere fun."_

_ Connie folded her arms and tried to give him a glare even though the corners of her mouth were twitching and he could see that he had won her over. "And _why _would I go out with you? I hardly know you!"_

_ "Because you haven't said no yet." He winked at her and then left, strolling out the door whistling some happy tune, partly because he knew she was watching him go and partly because he was pleased. That Connie sure was a cute little thing. _

The Winter Soldier was used to the throbbing ache and slight twisting of his stomach at his memories and he didn't even acknowledge them this time. He also managed to black out, which was a step forward. The whole thing had only taken a few seconds and he slowly turned around and asked, "How do you know who Connie is?"

"You murmured her name when you were passed out," said Ari curiously. "Along with the name Gabe…but that was the name of one of the members of the Howling Commandos, wasn't it? I remember from the Smithsonian exhibit."

"Connie was…" He rubbed his unshaven chin, stubbly chin self-consciously. "She was some girl I liked. I took her out a few times."

Ari smiled. "Good to know that you knew how to act around the ladies at _one _point, at least. What did she look like?"

The Winter Soldier took a look at Ari and said, "Sort of like you," in surprise. He couldn't see how he hadn't noticed it before. Ari _did _resemble Connie…slightly. Not completely. "Sort of," he added. "Her face was rounder. Your hair is darker and longer and straight. And your eyes are blue. But you sort of remind me of her." He vaguely wondered what had happened to that Connie Capone. Had she mourned him when he hadn't returned from war? Had she met a new man and married and lived and died? Had she died early on? He made a mental note to do a little digging on her if he survived this ordeal.

"I'm flattered," grinned Ari. Then she winced and touched her lip. "I need to stop doing that." She looked around the room. "So, any way out?"

"Still checking." The Winter Soldier made his way around the room, inspecting every corner. The further he got, the more confused he got. This couldn't possibly be right… HYDRA wouldn't be this stupid…could they? He began to check more quickly, tapping on the walls and listening to them, eyes scanning every last inch of the walls and floor. Finally he got to the door and rapped lightly on the glass and peered out of it, seeing no one in the hallway, which was dim except for one light that glowed softly down the hall and a red light blinking at the shadowy end of the hallway.

And then he turned around and snickered to himself. He couldn't help it.

"Soldier!" said Ari, looking shocked. "Are you _laughing_? I thought—okay, well, for one thing, I thought maybe you couldn't do that…but for another, why would you be laughing _now_?"

"Because," he said, "I know exactly how to get out of here." HYDRA _was_ this stupid, apparently, and they had banked on his fear of them and knowledge of how they worked _too _much, it seemed…because now it was backfiring horribly on them. He couldn't believe the solution was this simple, but it was. "Get up."

Ari clambered to her feet, wincing along the way and then stood by him, peering out the glass as well. "I don't see how—"

He nudged her aside and then said, "Watch me." Then he pulled back his cybernetic arm and smashed it through the glass so forcefully that the door frame shuddered and shards of glass flew everywhere. An alarm immediately began screaming but he ignored it and reached his cybernetic arm through the broken window, grasping the doorknob—

"We don't know how to unlock it," started Ari.

—and ripped it clear off the door, splintering a huge hole in the door. He kicked the door so hard that it flew off its hinges and hit the opposite wall and grabbed Ari's arm. They could hear shouts in the distance and the Winter Soldier urgently said, "Run," and they both took off down the hall.


	11. Chapter 11

_Note: Hey guys! So, just gonna do some blatant self-advertising here. Check out my one-shot I wrote about the Winter Soldier visiting the Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian at the end of CA: TWS. It's called "Friend or Foe?" It's a different Winter Soldier than the one that's in this story, it doesn't connect to this story. I just wrote it because I was having sad Bucky feels. Anyway! Thanks for reading and reviewing. :) _

The Winter Soldier didn't actually know where he was going so he pulled Ari into an empty office for one second, closing the door, and asked, "What next?"

"We either find and decode your files, or we find Steve and the gang," said Ari quickly. "Your call."

It wasn't even a choice to be made. The Winter Soldier wasn't going to pick his blood-splattered files over his old best friend. "Steve first," he said and he saw relief flood Ari's eyes. Irritation pricked him for a moment—had she really thought he'd go after his files first?—but before he could say anything or move, someone banged violently on the door and then yelled, "Soldier! We know you're in there with the girl!"

"Woman," hissed Ari under her breath angrily. "I'm freaking twenty-three, not _thirteen_."

"Come out now and we won't hurt either of you," the agent or guard called. The door had a frosted glass window that the Winter Soldier couldn't see clearly out of, but he saw at least four black shapes hovering outside the door, pointing handguns at it. He didn't believe for one second that they wouldn't hurt them. They might spare _him_ but they'd definitely shoot Ari if he opened the door. And even if they didn't, they'd only come back and torture her—or both of them this time—again, as a punishment for escaping. He knew how HYDRA worked; punishment was something they were very big on.

"I need your word," he called coldly through the door.

"What?" Ari whispered. "Are you nuts?"

"We promise!" called the man. The Winter Soldier pricked his ears, listening carefully—and there, there he heard it. A whispered chuckle from one of the men, an unfriendly sound. He had chuckled when the agent had promised to not harm them. If the Winter Soldier had needed any more proof that the strike agents had been lying, this was it.

"Um, Soldier?" Ari tapped him on the arm and he turned to look at her. She gestured her head around the room and said, "We're in a weapons room."

And so they were. The Winter Soldier hadn't even noticed it before but guns and knives and all other assortment of weapons hung on the walls, along with rope and combat gear. "Convenient," he murmured but he was smiling grimly to himself. If it was convenient, then he would damn well enjoy this convenience. He picked up a machine gun and slowly, quietly got it ready to fire, clicking off the safeguards.

"Okay," he called, pointing the machine gun at the door. "I'm going to count to three and then we'll come out. One—" And then all hell broke loose. With one hand he forced the top of Ari's head down so roughly that she fell to the floor and then he let loose with the machine gun, firing madly through the door and the walls. Ari lay on the ground, hands over her head, eyes squeezed shut, and for a moment all there was extremely loud gunfire as the Winter Soldier let loose on the agents outside and a few of them managed to shoot back in his direction. Smoke, dust, and debris filled the air and ground and all they could hear for a few seconds were shouts and yells, both near and distant. And then the Winter Soldier grabbed Ari, yanked her up, and said, "Let's keep moving." He threw the machine gun aside, grabbed a new one, thrust a pistol at her, and pocketed a deadly-looking dagger. They stepped over four bodies on the ground and hurried down the hall, hearing more alarms blaring and people shouting in the distance.

"There they are!" he heard someone shoot from down the hall where they'd come. "Shoot! No—don't kill him! We need him alive!"

The Winter Soldier and Ari took off, racing down the halls and around corners through an endless maze that didn't seem to go anywhere. The Winter Soldier vaguely wondered what fool had designed the building design, because they'd clearly been on some sort of drug when they'd done so. Why were there so many damn _turns_?

They dodged sprays of bullets as they ran, random agents diving out at them from doors and hallways. The Winter Soldier shot at them with ease, barely even having to look at them. Ari wasn't as good as him, of course, she missed every single shot, actually, but she shot _close enough _to the agents that they would jump back in alarm—and then the Winter Soldier would take the kill shot. At one point Ari let out a slight breathless laugh as they raced through the halls, trying to find a place to hide or figure out where Steve and the others were being held, and the Winter Soldier looked over at her and shouted, "What's so funny?"

A bullet whizzed past Ari's head and hit the wall, creating a small crater, and she shouted back, "This is kind of exciting!" as they ran.

"I've got you now!" An agent dove out of a room to their left and crashed into the Winter Soldier, knocking his machine gun out of his hand. A blonde female agent came crashing from an office on the opposite side and she and Ari dove for the machine gun at the same time, scuffling and hitting each other, viciously tugging on it.

Meanwhile the Winter Soldier had flipped out his dagger and was making short work of the agent. The agent was extremely strong and able-bodied, moving faster than most average men could move—but the Winter Soldier was faster. He threw himself into the fight, his blood singing the song that he had been created to sing, ducking, weaving, and lunging all around the agent like a striking cobra. Fluid, graceful, and lethal, he was like the most dangerous jungle cat that existed, except in human form.

"Soldier, you're so good!" Ari yelled from the floor, connecting the heel of her foot with the female agent's nose. The women fell backwards with a howl and Ari triumphantly grabbed the machine gun. A few seconds later, however, the woman dove at Ari and then they were back to fighting, viciously rolling around, both of them trying to gain the upper hand. The female agent probably would have won the fight much more quickly on any normal day, but her leg was wounded and dripping blood from some previous injury and it was clearly sticking at a strange angle, so all of her movements were more awkward and less agile. Ari, having experience firmly wrestling patients down and restraining when they got out of hand, was fighting quite furiously, though she lacked technique. However, her determination was admirable. Even with all her injuries from her beating—some of which were leaking fresh blood now—she fought hard. The Winter Soldier grabbed the agent, flipped him around so his back was to the Winter Soldier's chest, and wrapped his cybernetic arm around the man's arms and chest, pinning him against him so he couldn't move. The man struggled furiously, trying to twist and kick him and flip him over his head, but the Winter Soldier tightened his grip, whispered, "You asked for this," into the man's ear—and slit the man's throat with his dagger. Blood immediately leaked out, flowing fast and free, and the man let out a gurgling noise and then fell to the floor limply.

The Winter Soldier turned to see Ari hugging the machine gun tightly like it was a precious newborn baby, clinging to it, and his heart jumped into his throat to see her manhandling the gun so close to her face. The female agent had Ari in a headlock and was desperately trying to simultaneously choke her _and _grab the gun from her, grunting, "_Give _it to me, you stubborn skinny little bitch!"

The Winter Soldier punched the female agent in the face. She never even saw it coming and she immediately passed out, slumping to the floor.

"There they are!" someone yelled from down the hall. "Hey—HEY, Garry and Schumacher are down! I need backup here! Stanton, call for backup, _now_!"

A bullet came at the Winter Soldier and he moved as quick as lighting, grabbing a dusty painting of the wall and whipping it up as a shield while ducking. The glass of the painting exploded as the bullet blew through it and the Winter Soldier ripped out a pistol and shot the man at the end of the hall.

"We're never going to find Steve at this rate!" said Ari as they hurried down the hall. "We're never—oh, Soldier, would you look at that!" She pointed up ahead. "Stairwell. Come on, let's get off this floor before anyone sees us."

They stepped inside the stairwell which wasn't lit with any lights. "This place isn't very well run," Ari remarked as she peered around. "No lights? Really? This is the world-powerful HYDRA?"

"That's how I knew I could punch my way out of the room," said the Winter Soldier as he looked up and down. "I could tell that this building hadn't been used in years. Whatever was left of HYDRA from D.C. relocated here in a hurry and they set up alarms and some traps, but they didn't have time to set up a state-of-the-art security system. In the old facility the glass on the door would have been made of tempered, bullet-proof glass that shocked you if you touched it…" He continued to mumble to himself, unaware that Ari wasn't even listening, as he peered down the stairs and then up the stairs. They both descending and ascended into darkness. He turned to look at Ari, who had been examining a slash on her stomach and wincing. "Which direction?"

"Where is Steve likely to be held?" she asked.

"I was always…held in the basement," he said slowly. He hated the look of sadness that flickered in Ari's eyes at the mention of him being locked in cryo-sleep. It reminded him all too well of what all his torture and abuse had cost Bucky Barnes. His personality. His mental health. His memories. His sense of self. Everything.

"Let's go down," Ari decided.

"We'll be backing ourselves into a corner," said the Winter Soldier matter-of-factly. "You know that, right? If we go down, there'll be less exits."

"We're _not _leaving Steve, Natasha, or Sam," said Ari firmly and she hurried down the steps as silently as she could so as to not alert anyone she was coming. He hurried after her, silent as a cat as well, wondering if he would find Steve down there. Wondering _what _he would find down there. What on earth could trap Captain America, Falcon, and Black Widow so quickly? Even _he_, the Winter Soldier, had struggled to kill them all quickly a few weeks ago, and he was one of the most dangerous men in the world.

They hurried down the flight of stairs which kept twisting at right angles, going down flight after flight after flight… After six flights of stairs, they finally arrived a dinghy, metal door covered with peeling olive green paint. Ari tried the handle and pushed against the door. "It's locked," she said. "Of course it is. Well, Soldier, this is your area of expertise, so…" She stepped aside and gave a funny little bow. "Have at it."

_With pleasure_, the Winter Soldier thought grimly. He took a step back and then exploded into a high kick, hitting the door so hard its hinges bent and groaned and then door clanged open (though it was too heavy to completely fly off its hinges). The sound was deafening where he and Ari were but they were so deep underground that he doubted if anyone above would have heard anything more than a muffled crash—if they'd even heard that. They were probably looking for him right now and he hoped they'd choose to check all the upper floors first. Rooftops, high areas, and jumping were his specialty, so hopefully they'd choose to believe that he went up instead of down.

They headed into the room and he attempted to reposition the door so it _looked _shut. After struggling to prop it up normally for a few seconds, he punched the door and straightened out some of the dents and left it leaning against the frame. He turned to see three dark glowing boxes. Ari stood by them, her mouth hanging open, staring down at them with a mixture of horror and awe. Her blue eyes were wide and the bright blue-silvery glow gave them an inhuman glow, as if she were an alien. His heart froze slightly and he walked mechanically over to the boxes. They lay side by side, taller than normal refrigerators and more terrifying than coffins. They had metal sides with glass fronts that revealed everything inside. Natasha lay in one, Steve lay in the one in the middle, and Sam was in the one on the other side. Their arms were crossed mummy style and their eyes were shut, their skin tinged ghostly blue from the blue lighting inside the box. Their skin, eyelashes, hair…everything was covered in ice crystals and the glass was filled with icy vapor swirling around lazily, like dry ice.

"They froze them in cryo," he said hoarsely, remembering the horror and numbness of being frozen in cryo. "I… We have to get them out!" He panicked, grabbing the top of Steve's cryo coffin and got ready to shatter it or shove it off but Ari lunged across the box and grabbed his arm and shrieked, "Soldier, STOP!" He froze and looked at her. Her face was pale and terrified and she quickly said, "I did some research on cryo sleep after you told me they put you in it—you can't just _rip _someone out of it! They do prep on you to put you into cryo sleep… Droplets in your eyes to glue them shut and retain moisture, serums to slow your heartbeat but keep your circulation going… All sorts of shots and chemicals. If you take someone out of cryo, you need to do it slowly and carefully. If you just yank them out, they'll asphyxiate or they'll die from poor body functioning!"

He slowly backed up from Steve's box and hit Natasha's box with his back, turning to look down at the woman. She looked suddenly so much more innocent and human when she was so vulnerable. Not so mysterious and dangerous. And even though she had annoyed him greatly, he suddenly felt like it was wrong for Natasha to look this vulnerable. It wasn't fair to her, what had been done.

"What do we do?" he whispered.

"Look around for a box—a bag—_something _that contains the medicines and serums needed to get their bodies going again. I can't switch their boxes off"—she pointed to a panel of switches on the opposite wall—"until I inject them with the chemicals needed to get them functioning at a normal level. Right now the boxes are the only things keeping them alive, I think."

He began pacing around the room, frantically searching every single cabinet and shelf for something, _anything_, that would help them. There had to be something…HYDRA wouldn't just freeze Captain America without a way to wake him up again… He flung open a cabinet in frustration so roughly that it ripped off its hinges and clattered to the floor. Not caring, he rummaged through the cupboard, shoving aside glass jars and plastic tubes—until he came to a test tube rack labeled DCV. There was another rack right next to it that was filled with tubes and it was labeled CVitals. Could it be that DCV meant…de-cryo vitals? Did that even make any sense? He wasn't a medical expert by any means but he grabbed the DCV rack and headed over to Ari and wordlessly held it out to her. She took it and began inspecting the labels on the syringes inside.

"Yup…yup…yeah…" She looked up at him. "I don't know what _some _of these are—but some of them I do recognize. This one"—she tapped a tube filled with a clear liquid—"will get your blood sugar levels back up. This one thins your blood if it's too coagulated. Find me clean needles, Soldier. I'm going to need at least…at least sixty. Hurry."

And hurry he did. He ripped open drawers, throwing stuff out of them as quickly as he could, tossing old yellowed papers, notes, a stethoscope, roles of medical tape…all sorts of random junk…over his shoulder before he found an orange box labeled "Needles" and brought it back to Ari.

"Now," she whispered, ripping open one needled, inserting it into the first syringe, "open Natasha's box. We're going to go in order…"

"Why not Steve first?" he demanded.

"Soldier, _listen to me_," she commanded and her tone was such pure steel that the Winter Soldier was shocked for a moment. He'd never heard her speak in this way before, not even when she'd commanded him to read his files back at the hotel. However, taking a sharp glance at her face, he could detect that she had some sort of underlying reason for doing it this way—so he silently nodded and said, "Tell me what to do next."

Ari was completely in her element, very focused now. "Open Natasha's lid," she said. He looked around at the box and saw a small glowing red button near the foot of it. It wasn't labeled but since there was nothing else, he shrugged, mentally apologized to Natasha if this ended up harming her, and pressed it. They heard a clicking noise and then the glass top of the box began to slide upwards, first revealing Natasha's feet, then her legs, then her torso, and so on. Icy vapor so cold it stung and burned their noses and eyes drifted up from the box and the whole room began to smell like menthol or something of that sort. The Winter Soldier noticed thin needles coming from the sides of the box hooked into Natasha's body from head to toe—but they were inserted half-haphazardly. Someone had done a rush job. He also noticed some dried blood near Natasha's mouth and Ari's mouth tightened. "They didn't do this right," she hissed in horror. "She's—she's going to die if we don't fix this now! Alright, cover me."

And then Ari moved faster than she had ever done in her life. There were twenty syringes and she didn't know where to inject them or how much. The Winter Soldier could see she was in distress but she had a determined expression. She moved quickly, using a new needle for every single syringe—"We don't want to give them a disease," she explained—and began to inject them into Natasha's neck, forearm, wrist, and even some behind the knee (after the Winter Soldier ripped Natasha's clothes open from the knee down with his knife). "I'm injecting these anywhere there's a major pulse," she explained. "Carotid artery and the brachoradial, radial, and popliteal pulses… I hope that should work."

The Winter Soldier suddenly heard shouts that seemed much closer than they had before. And then he heard the clanging noises that meant only one thing—they were coming. "Hurry!" he hissed.

"Last one!" Ari said frantically. She slipped on a new needle and jammed it into Natasha's neck. Then she threw the needle across the room, slammed the needle box shut and slid both the needle box and the test tube rack across the room underneath a table. The Winter Soldier heard the thundering footsteps getting closer—it would only be a few seconds now—and Ari turned and said, "Quick, flip her switch off on that panel! She's…" She quickly ran around the box, frantically inspecting it. "She's C84! Flip that switch off, quick!"

The Winter Soldier searched the panel quickly. There were so many blinking and glowing switches that for a moment he had no idea what he was looking for and his heart rate was increasing as he panicked—but no, there it was. He smacked the switch down and the light for C84 went off. He hurried over to the box to see Ari surreptitiously drop her gun into Natasha's box and stuff it under her body so it was hidden from view. Then she lunged for the glowing red button on the box and slammed it. The box made a clicking noise and the glass cover began to slide shut over the glowing sides—

The shouts and pounding footsteps were right outside the door now and Ari was whispering under her breath, "Come on, come on, come on, _come on_—" as she watched the glass close—

And then door burst in one second after the glass clicked shut. Agents burst into the room, at least fifteen of them, and they all immediately pointed their guns at both of them. The Winter Soldier didn't even bother trying to fight this time because he knew Ari would get killed in the crossfire. So he slowly held up his hands to show that he was surrendering. Ari did the same.

"Don't move!" one of the HYDRA agents yelled. "Get down on your knees, hands behind your head!"

The Winter Soldier and Ari both slowly knelt. Neither of them dared to exchange a glance at each other, lest they let any information slip. One of the agents walked forward and said, "So you've found your pals, huh? What did you think, that you would be able to free them and save the day?"

The agents hadn't realized that they had already started Natasha on the process of waking up. The Winter Soldier would have preferred to have Steve be the first one to wake up—for emotional reasons as well as practical reasons, considering that Steve was the strongest person here, aside from the Winter Soldier himself—but Natasha was still better than no one. He couldn't stop the small, mirthless smile that spread across his face and one of the agents snapped, "You think this is funny, Soldier?"

The butt of a rifle came cracking down on his head so hard that he fell to his hands and Ari shouted, "Leave him alone!"

"You're next, sweetheart, if you don't shut up," said one of the agents. "Your friend can handle this. Trust me, he's used to this."

Blood trickled down the Winter Soldier's forehead and dripped into his right eye and mouth as he got back on his knees. He roughly wiped the blood away from his mouth, his mouth filled with the taste of coppery salt, and then spat some of the blood at the agent's feet. This got him another smash, this time across the back. Ari groaned and whispered, "Stop antagonizing them!"

"Listen to your friend, Soldier," suggested one of the agents. "She seems smarter than you. You want to live, right? _Then shut up_. Now—on your feet."

The agents smashed the barrels of their guns into both of their backs and prodded to their feet. The Winter Soldier had to grit his teeth and overcome the urge to bent their guns into L-shaped boomerangs that he would then use to beat their brains out. _Ari_, he reminded himself. _Think of her_. And so he obeyed, like he had been taught to, and followed the agents back up the stair case and up another flight of stairs to the second floor. This floor had escaped most of the damage from the first floor, but he still saw a few bullet holes here and there.

The agents led them into a large office with a glass wall that overlooked the forest around them. A man stood with his hands clasped behind his back, staring out at the scene. When they walked in, he turned around slowly and smiled. "Ah. I've been waiting for you two." It was the ugly man from the TV screen from before.

Ari snorted. "Could you _be _any lamer?" she asked. "What, did you just pick up the Cliché Guide to Being a Bad Guy manual at Barnes & Noble and start from chapter one?"

One of the agents started forward with their gun to hit Ari but the man held up his hand and said, "Stand down, Haverson. Let the girl speak her mind. In fact, all of you get out except Mullins and Stafford." The agents filed out of the room and two remained, closing the door and standing with their backs to the wall, staring straight ahead, holding their guns at the ready.

"Let me introduce myself," the man said. "My name is Gavin Hoffman. Director of HYDRA."

The Winter Soldier stared at this Gavin Hoffman with dead eyes and coldly asked, "Where is Alexander Pierce?"

Gavin Hoffman looked surprised. "My dear boy…did you not know? Alexander Pierce is dead."

The Winter Soldier felt like he had been punched in the stomach. The man who had controlled him for so long and had haunted his nightmares for the past few weeks…was dead? By whose hand? And had his death been torturous and painful? The Winter Soldier dearly hoped so.

"Um, unless you're a 100 years old, you really shouldn't be calling him 'boy'," said Ari. "Soldier is like twice your age."

"And yet, mentally, he is lower than the most meager of children," said Gavin Hoffman delicately.

"That's not true!" Ari said angrily. "What the hell would _you _know?"

"I know everything about him," said Gavin Hoffman mildly. "I've read all his files, read all of Pierce's notes. I know all about how he works, the work he's done for HYDRA. Very admirable, by the way," he said the Winter Soldier, inclining his head in what was supposed to look like a respectful salute. The Winter Soldier wanted to rip his head off. "I know that he's a mindless machine," continued Gavin Hoffman. "I know he feels nothing, understands nothing. He's dangerous, oh yes, he's _dangerous_. But he's childlike in his thinking. The slightest manipulation can change him. Just look at you. A few days of kindness and he's eating out of your hand. Give him a few days with me and my tools and he'd snap your pretty neck as soon as see you."

"You know nothing," spat Ari. "He _does _feel. He _does _think. He's smarter than any of you morons ever gave him credit for. You never erased his memories completely. He's still Bucky Barnes under all this. He—he remembers Steve Rogers and he remembers his old life and he knows _everything _you've done to him and he hates you for it. I would know, I've actually spent _time _with him. He's more human than you'll ever be, you sick freak, and I would rather spend the rest of eternity with the Winter Soldier—even the cold-blooded killer one—than another second with a cockroach like you, because at least I know he has something under his exterior!"

"You think you've changed him," Gavin Hoffman said in a quiet voice. "You haven't."

"And you think you own him," whispered Ari. "But you never did." She was breathing heavily with suppressed emotion and anger and her cheeks were bright pink, her eyes glittering with anger, and when she looked over at the Winter Soldier, she was surprised to find him staring at her in shock.

"What?" she said, but he couldn't speak.

Never before had anyone said things like that about him. The emotions which were coursing through him were unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Getting to know Ari…meeting Steve…neither of them compared to this moment. The Winter Soldier had never heard someone speak about him this way, defend him so passionately, and he was horrified to find his eyes were burning. He wanted to sink to his knees and bury his face in his hands and cry. Cry because he had never had someone care about him this way before.

"Ah, so the little lady is in love with the Winter Soldier?" Gavin Hoffman sneered.

"I'm not _in love _with him," she said quietly. "But I do love him. How could I not? He tries so hard to be human but he doesn't see himself truly for who he is. He's already so human. And that's something I'd never expect someone like you to understand."

"What say you, Soldier?" asked Gavin mockingly. "Did the little lady's speech make you feel human and emotional?"

"I say that if you call her 'little lady' one more time, I'm going to rip your eyes out and make you eat them," said the Winter Soldier. "My only regret is that I didn't get to kill Alexander Pierce myself. But you can do in his place. Do you want that?"

Gavin Hoffman looked furious for one moment, like he wanted to order his agents to shoot both of them on the spot—and then he pasted a forced, smarmy smile on his fleshy face and asked, "Ah…but don't you have some questions for me? Before you kill me, of course. Questions like…how we knew you were coming before you did?" The Winter Soldier and Ari both stiffened and Gavin caught the movements. He grinned a toothy, horrible grin. "Yes, we did, Soldier! We've known from the start that you were coming. Why do you think we haven't sent anyone after you these past few days? We knew you'd deliver yourself to our doorstep, all wrapped up in a beautiful bow."

The Winter Soldier didn't know what to say or think. He could sense Ari as still as a statue next to him and he knew her mind was racing as well. He had a terrible feeling he knew what Gavin Hoffman was about to tell them but he didn't want to say anything out loud in case he was wrong.

"So tell us," he finally said.

Gavin Hoffman smiled widely and he looked positively grotesque as he did it. Perhaps it was a cliché that all villainous characters were ugly, but in this case, it was absolutely true and the Winter Soldier felt a bit ill watching Gavin's face. "Why, it was your dear brother, Aritamis!" he said, holding his arms out wide. Ari's face whitened and her body stilled even further and Gavin Hoffman nodded. "That's right, I know your full name. I know many things about you, Aritamis. At first I only knew you existed, due to being a relative of Alexian's. But I did further research when I realized the Winter Soldier was pathetically hiding out in your house. Straight A student, friendly, reserved, quiet. Never had a real boyfriend. Hospitalized a few times—twice for being in a car accident, three times for sports related injuries…and a few times for mysterious bruises and injuries. You claimed you had fallen down but funny how you always fell when Alexian was near, huh?" Gavin Hoffman and the Winter Soldier felt an intense rush of hatred for the man.

He realized that Ari was trembling and he slowly and carefully put his human hand on her shoulder to steady her. To his surprise, she did stop trembling slightly. Perhaps there _was_ more value in human touch than he'd initially suspected.

"Alexian hacked into our systems years ago," explained Gavin, "but he didn't go undetected. We could have had him eliminated—but we decided he could be useful. So we contacted him and managed to convince him to report to us if we ever need him to hack into a system for us. In return for his services, we allowed him to go about his normal human life and we left the rest of his family alone, as long as none of you ever realized what he was up to. It was a perfect deal. And then imagine my complete and utter shock when Alexian contacts me over a week ago and lets me know that the _Winter Soldier _is staying with his sister—and is hacking into our databases to get his files! I allowed Alexian to retrieve your files because I knew they were encoded and I knew they would drive you right back into our arms."

"No," said Ari blindly, speaking up for the first time. "Alex is—Alex is a jerk, but he wouldn't sell me out this much, he wouldn't do that—?" Her voice ended on an unsure, questioning note and the Winter Soldier could tell that deep, deep down she _knew _her brother was a monster but she just didn't want to admit it to herself.

"Sorry to break it to you, Ari," came the voice that Winter Soldier loathed. They both turned slowly to see Alex step through a door in the side of the room. Clearly, he had been waiting for a dramatic entrance because he was smiling in a way that made the Winter Soldier want to shoot an entire round of bullets into his body until he was broken and bleeding. "But yes I can. And I did. So you're just going to have to come to terms with that, little sister."

Ari stood frozen for a moment, her mouth hanging open—and then she threw herself at Alex with a maddened shriek. The Winter Soldier lunged forward and dragged her back and she screamed, "LET ME GO, SOLDIER, SO I CAN BREAK HIS NECK!" She struggled furiously against him and he held her so that she wouldn't injure herself—or him—by all her flailing fists. She was smaller than him but if she jabbed him in the eyes, it would hurt all the same for him. "Let me _go_!" she screamed at him. When he didn't respond, she screamed at Alex, "YOU BASTARD! I HOPE YOU BURN IN HELL FOR THIS!" The Winter Soldier had never quite seen her lose her mind like this. She was screaming so loudly it sounded like she might rip her throat and tears were suddenly pouring down her face.

"And you haven't even heard the best part yet!" said Gavin Hoffman, sounding delighted at Ari's reaction, who was now weeping silently. The Winter Soldier knew she hated Alex and he had abused her and ruined her life, but he suspected that she'd never thought he could betray her this badly. It must have felt like losing Danika all over again. Ari really was too trusting of a person, because the Winter Soldier hadn't put it past Alex to be a traitor from the first day he had met him. "I'm going to _give _the Winter Soldier his files and his memories back!"

The Winter Soldier frowned and glared at Gavin Hoffman, not wanting to ask what he meant but his curiosity unavoidably piqued. Gavin Hoffman looked like a cat who knew he had cornered the mouse and was now content to play with it before he ate it. "That's right," he said. "I'll decode your files for you." He held up a black device in his hands. "I'll even return your memories of being Bucky Barnes to you—we have a way to reverse the damage that's been done on your mind. And then you can walk away…or join HYDRA. But all this will only happen on one condition."

"What's that?" the Winter Soldier growled.

Gavin Hoffman gave the slightest of nods to one of the agents in the corner—and then it happened so quickly he couldn't even stop them. Three agents had surrounded him and dragged Ari away, across the room, shoving her in Alex's direction, who caught her by the arm roughly. Ari wiped away her tears and demanded, "What are you doing? Get off me! GET OFF ME!" But no matter how hard she tried to pull away, Alex hung on with a fiendish grip, the skin on his face looking taut like he was a grinning skull. He positioned Ari in such a way that she was standing right opposite of the Winter Soldier. An agent came forward and shoved a gun into his arms. All around the room stood five agents, three pointing their guns at him and two pointing them at Ari for insurance.

"You're going to kill Aritamis Madden," said Gavin Hoffman. "Do we have a deal? Refuse and not only will I destroy the decoder, I'll destroy any access the devices that can return your memories. _And _I'll have your memories wiped again _and _I'll have Miss Ari Madden killed anyway. So it seems like there's only one logical choice here…but again, it's up to you, Soldier."

_Note: Sooo…there it is! I'd intended for it to be this huge plot twist but you clever things caught onto it almost right away. Oh well, I'd had the idea from the start, so I guess that's all that matters, right? Haha. Thanks if you've managed to stick around so far! I promise I won't drag this story on for ages. We're past the halfway point by now, I think, so stick around with me till the end and let me know what you think! _


	12. Chapter 12

_Note: This has nothing to do with this story, but for anyone who's interested…I'm starting on a second Captain America 2 story! Can't quite tell you what it's about just yet, too early on, but I think I'll post the first chapter of that one the same day I post the last chapter of this one. Sniff. Bittersweet. So be on the lookout for that, eventually, if you want! BTW, this story isn't quite done yet…but we're almost there! So stick with me. _

The Winter Soldier remembered a time when he would have easily sacrificed Ari for his memories and files. He remembered because it would have only been slightly over a week ago. He distinctly remembered convincing himself that he would take Ari out if it was absolutely necessary. He had tried to convince himself that Ari's life could be thrown away for the greater good, if it really came down to that. And the cold truth was, over a week ago, he actually had believed that and would probably have shot Ari without hesitation.

Oh, how things changed in such a short amount of time.

The Winter Soldier didn't even consider shooting Ari. She was his friend and friends didn't shoot friends—this seemed like a general rule of humanity, and he was on his way to rejoining humanity again. He wouldn't mar his entrance into the human world by murdering a close friend of his on his way in. He wanted to walk in clean, not with his hands covered in an innocent person's blood.

Gavin Hoffman stood there, holding the black decoder up in the air, waiting to see what the Winter Soldier did. He picked up the gun to stall Gavin Hoffman and pointed it at Ari, not saying anything for a moment. Ari was staring at him and her expression was calm, as if she didn't at all expect the Winter Soldier to shoot her. However, as he stared her down and didn't lower the barrel of the gun, he saw a flicker of doubt and insecurity flash in her eyes for just a moment—she was starting to actually get frightened now—

And then everything happened so quickly that afterwards, it was hard for anyone to explain what had happened. The Winter Soldier pointed his gun at Gavin Hoffman and expertly shot the decoding device. It blew clean out of Gavin's hands, missing his fingers (due purely to the Winter Soldier's skill) and for a second, Gavin spluttered and stammered in shock, never having expected that the Winter Soldier might shoot his own past away—and then he shouted, "What have you done, YOU FOOL? I'll show you—!" He turned to the agents lining the walls but before he could give any orders, the entire glass wall behind him exploded as a silver, blue, and red shield smashed through it and slammed into the wall behind the Winter Soldier so hard that it sank into the wall. He grabbed the shield and whirled just in time to deflect an agent who had lunged at him to sink a knife into his back. And then there was all out chaos. Gunshots rang out as Captain America, Black Widow, and Falcon clambered up over the edge of the floor that was now open to the outside and began fighting with the agents. There was suddenly a loud hissing noise and then a small bang and then heady gray smoke began to fill the room. It clouded the area thickly for just a few seconds so no one could see what was going on—the Winter Soldier blindly jammed his knife into the air in front of him and was satisfied to hear a scream—and then the smoke disappeared relatively quickly, due to the glass wall having been smashed in.

The Winter Soldier looked around to see four dead agents on the ground. "I pushed the fifth out the…er, window," said Falcon, shrugging and pointing to the edge of the floor that led straight down into forest now.

"Where's Ari?" the Winter Soldier suddenly demanded. "And—and Hoffman and Alex Madden? They're all gone!"

"They're the ones who threw the smoke grenade," Black Widow said grimly. "As a diversion, obviously. But why did they take _Ari _instead of you?"

"She was closer to them," he found himself saying hollowly. "And…and she's a good hostage."

_Because they know she's my friend. _What would they do to her now? Would they torture her again? He hoped against hope that they wouldn't. He hoped they'd wait for him to come to them.

He looked over at the other three, taking in their appearance for the first time. They were all dripping wet and shivering. Their eyes were bloodshot as if they'd all been swimming open-eyed in chlorinated water for hours and their lips were pale and bloodless, as were their faces and skin in general. They looked weak and he noticed Sam was holding onto the wall for support. They looked to be in bad shape—and yet they'd managed to wake up from cryo, escape, and find Ari and the Winter Soldier in a very short amount of time. Superheroes indeed.

"How did you…?" he asked, his question trailing off.

"I woke up first," said Natasha. "I found the gun with me—who did that, by the way? You? Nah, it was probably Ari—and I shot my way out of my box. I know how to wake people up from cryo—I did a lot of research on it after we discovered who you really were a few weeks ago—and I hunted around for the supplies to wake Steve and Sam. I found them under a table nearby and I set to work on both of them. Waking up is pretty quick process but I sped it up even further by injecting larger amounts of serums than were needed."

Now the Winter Soldier knew why Ari had _insisted _on waking Natasha first. Steve wouldn't have known at all what to do once he woke up and punched his way out of his box. Natasha, on the other hands, was very clever and knowledgeable in these types of things, and Ari had foreseen that this might be useful to them…which it had. The Winter Soldier took a quick moment to send thanks to the heavens for Ari's quick thinking.

And now it was time for _him _to do some quick thinking.

"Gavin Hoffman obviously wants me to come searching for him," he said. "He took Ari for a reason. She's not worth anything otherwise—to him, anyway. So I propose we give him exactly what he wants. He won't negotiate with anyone else. In the meanwhile, you three hunt down…" The Winter Soldier squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples at the sudden surge of pain behind his eyes. "Hunt down the memory reversal device."

"The _what_?" Natasha demanded at the same time Steve said, "Bucky, _no_. I'm not sending you straight to—what's his name? Gavin Hoffman? I'm not handing you over like some present. It's you he wants, so it'll be me he gets."

"Ari is my friend," snapped the Winter Soldier, irritated. "I'm going."

"I care about Ari too, believe it or not," said Steve.

"Yeah, but…" _But it's not the same_, he wanted to argue. Ari didn't mean the same things to Steve that she meant to him. To Steve, she was just a friendly and nice citizen who had treated his best friend kindly. And the Winter Soldier knew Steve would forever be grateful and loyal to Ari for doing that. But he didn't understand. For the Winter Soldier…Ari was hope. She represented him getting a second chance. Steve was his oldest friend, but Ari was his first true friend in these times. She'd risked her life unknowingly _and _knowingly to help take him in and nurse him to health and support him. She'd given up her job (he was sure of it by now) and she'd forced herself to meet with her brother, the one person she hated more than anyone else on the planet, for _his _sake. What kind of friend would he be if he abandoned her to her fate now?

"I'm going," he decided. "I can handle Gavin Hoffman. I'm a super-soldier, remember?"

"How could we forget," wisecracked Sam. "Y'all never stop reminding us." And they all broke out into tense and awkward smiles, suddenly feeling the need to turn the dark moment into a lighter one. Sometimes you just needed to laugh and keep moving.

"But you can help me," he said. He looked each of them in their eyes directly, feeling more like a sergeant than he had in possibly over seventy years. As the Winter Soldier, he'd been dangerous—but he had kept his gaze averted from officials and people in charge. He always lowered his eyes as a sign that he was subservient to them. Not this time. Now _he _was giving the orders and he felt a bit like Captain America. The effect was dizzying but not altogether unpleasant.

Natasha's forest green eyes. Sam's brown eyes. Steve's bright blue eyes. He looked each of them directly in the eyes and said, "You can take out _every _single agent in this building. That'll be a big help."

Steve looked like he wanted to argue but then he caught sight of the Winter Soldier's determined expression and took a step back. "Alright," he said calmly. "You know what you're doing. You sound like your old self, Bucky—like a sergeant."

"I feel like it," he said honestly.

Sam saluted him sassily and then all three of them turned to leave.

"Wait," he called after them. They all stopped and turned. He scowled suddenly so fiercely that Natasha raised her eyebrows. "If you find a guy named Alex Madden? Save him for me. I need to have a few words with him. Alright?"

Sam whistled under his breath. "Ooooh, I would _not _want to be this Alex Madd—hey, wait, _Madden_? As in Ari's last name?"

"Long story short," said the Winter Soldier, "he's her abusive, psychotic, murderous, traitor older brother. And I want to have a moments alone with him."

Steve nodded, his expression serious. "Don't worry. If we find him, he's all yours." He took a hesitant step towards Bucky—and then suddenly hurried at him and enveloped him in a hug. The Winter Soldier was so surprised that he didn't respond for a moment and then he awkwardly patted Steve on the back, wondering if he was supposed to say something. Was "there, there" appropriate? Or was that something one only said to babies?

"Be careful, Buck," Steve whispered fiercely in his ear. The Winter Soldier nodded and then Steve pulled away and saluted him. "Sergeant Barnes." And then he turned and strode from the room. Natasha gave him a respectful nod and a slight smile that said she grudgingly respected him now and also left. Sam grinned at him and said, "Don't worry. We got your back."

And then the Winter Soldier was alone. He looked around at the glass shattered on the ground and thought hard to himself. Where was Gavin Hoffman likely to be hiding out? Would he be with the memory reversal device? The Winter Soldier hadn't even been _aware _that there was a device that could return his memories to him—but he wasn't surprised, in all honesty. HYDRA had always been ahead of the curve regarding science and medicine. He wryly imagined what they could do if perhaps if they put forth some of their talents towards _good_.

He walked across the room to bend down behind the desk and inspect the shattered black device that Gavin Hoffman had said was the decoding device. He'd destroyed it. There went all his chances of finding out all the crimes he'd committed in the past and any more information on Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier project. For a moment the Winter Soldier felt unbearably defeated. He would never know the true extent of the atrocities he'd been involved in now. He would always have to wonder. This would plague his nightmares for the rest of his life.

But perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps he needed a clean break, a fresh start. That's what Ari would have said. She would have encouraged him to find the bright side in the situation. Steve would have done the same. Sam would have said, "It's fine, dude, you get the chance to start over. Give yourself a break." And Natasha…well, the Winter Soldier had no idea what Natasha would say because she was so mysterious. But she'd probably have something semi-kind or semi-helpful to add as well.

He pocketed the broken fragments (not really asking himself why) and then wondered where Gavin Hoffman could be. He was obviously waiting for the Winter Soldier to come to him… If _he _were Gavin Hoffman and he'd read all the Winter Soldier's files, where would he go to wait for the Winter Soldier to come find him?

The roof. The Winter Soldier instantly knew it was true the second he thought it. He had always been talented with high places. He was good on the ground as well, of course, but jumping, leaping, swinging, sniping from high buildings…it was something of a specialty for him. He had somewhat enjoyed it too, to whatever extent he had been able to "enjoy" things while he had worked for HYDRA. Perhaps _enjoy_ was the wrong word…he preferred to be on high rooftops or high places when on missions. Not only did it give him strategic advantages, it made him feel less antsy and cooped up, the way he always did when he had driven in armored cars with HYDR strike agents on the way to a mission. He hadn't liked being around people. He still didn't much like being around people, a few exceptions withstanding. But Gavin Hoffman had read his files and the Winter Soldier was sure that it was noted down somewhere that he liked roofs and high places.

Roofs were also good places to throw people off of and make it look like an accident.

He turned and strode from the room. He heard a few distant shots in the distance and vaguely wondered who had fallen now. Comrade or enemy? If they all got out of this alive, it would surely be a miracle. He bounded up the stairs in the stairwell down the hall, making sure to sweep each new hallway carefully with his eyes to check for any more traps. But he encountered nothing. It appeared that in this cheap temporary headquarters the electrical cages had been the only things they'd had time to set up. Still, those cages had been lethal…they'd even managed to trap Captain America.

Yes, HYDRA was still dangerous. It wouldn't do to forget this.

He quickly climbed several flights of stairs, skipping several steps at a time, and pushed the door to the roof open, emerging into darkness. Night had fallen. The air was warm and thousands of stars glittered overhead in the velvety deep blue sky—a night all too beautiful for what had been going on here. The door shut behind him and he heard a loud buzzing noise. Whirling, he yanked the door—to no avail. It had locked himself.

"Yes, I apologize about that."

He slowly turned around to see Gavin Hoffman standing in the middle of the roof, holding a machine gun pointed straight at him. "I control all the doors in this place, you see," he continued, patting a bulge in his pocket which the Winter Soldier could only assume was some sort of remote control.

The Winter Soldier merely looked at him, his expression very emotionless and mask-like. "So why aren't you shooting me?"

"I had to ask why," said Gavin Hoffman.

The Winter Soldier waited for him to clarify. But instead, the man only cocked his head and took a step towards the Winter Soldier, eyes taking in everything. There was something strained and wild about his eyes, something that told the Winter Soldier that all was not well inside this man's head. Something had happened to him since their last talk and he looked a bit more unhinged.

"Why what?" the Winter Soldier finally asked.

"Why you didn't shoot the girl," said Gavin Hoffman. "Aritamis Madden. I did a bit of looking up on her—our guard brought me a bit of her hair after she went through her beating and I looked her up to see. I wanted to see what kind of magic this girl possessed. Is it something I can use? Is it something I can fabricate? I need to know."

The Winter Soldier felt a bit confused now but he kept a wary eye on Gavin Hoffman's machine gun as he took a slight, almost imperceptible step towards him. Hoffman didn't seem to notice. "What do you mean?" he asked slowly. "Ari doesn't do any…magic."

"Oh, but she _does_," snapped Hoffman, looking a bit more demented now. "Do you understand the implications of what has happened here? Let me enlighten you, Soldier. I have studied the human brain and human connections and human emotions for decades. I know all about the desperate things humans can do in the name of love and passion and lust. That dangerous thing called love—it can make humans do even the most wretched, mad things. At first I assumed this was what had happened to you. Perhaps…perhaps we'd underestimated the fact that you are still a _man_. Perhaps, upon your newfound freedom, you'd fallen in love with this girl and this was why you changed completely."

The Winter Soldier didn't know what to say to this. Gavin Hoffman, it appeared, was more insane than he'd originally assumed. The Winter Soldier wasn't _in love _with Ari. Yes, he could admit that Ari wasn't exactly _displeasing _to look at…but he didn't have _those _kinds of feelings for her.

"But I realized that wasn't it," said Hoffman. "Any fool could see it wasn't it, after I ordered her to be brought to your room after her beating. I kept waiting for you to kiss her—or do any of the things lust-filled young people do after their beloved has been hurt. You didn't. In fact, you didn't even touch her. And I knew then it wasn't that. But then _what_?"

"You're rambling," said the Winter Soldier coldly, taking another tiny half-step. "Make your point. Now."

"The point, Soldier, is I want to know what she did to you!" Hoffman shouted, suddenly looking absolutely demented, his fleshy face twisting with anger. "At first I assumed perhaps you were fond of her because she was kind to you—the way a beaten animal is kind to the first hand that feeds it—but I was _positive _you would shoot her and come back to us. A week with this one irrelevant human _couldn't possibly _overcome decades of the highest forms of torture, brainwashing, emotional and physical manipulation, and socialization…could it?" Gavin Hoffman's voice became bitter then. "As it turns out…it could. It could and it did. And I want to know why. I want you to tell me what _exactly _she's done to you, said to you. The kind of loyalty she's inspired…if I could replicate that for future projects…"

Gavin Hoffman had never had any friends, the Winter Soldier suddenly realized. It was funny (in a completely non-funny way) because in the most basic terms, Gavin Hoffman was more human than the Winter Soldier. In a textbook definition sense, Gavin Hoffman had live a normal number of years, had been allowed to feel emotions, had never been frozen in cryo, had been allowed to grow up and have a life… He was "human."

And yet, on a deeper level, the Winter Soldier realized that _he _was more human than Gavin Hoffman. Despite being frozen for decades, despite all the manipulation and torture and training and mind games played on him, despite having his emotions shut off…he was more human than Gavin Hoffman. Because he'd experienced true friendship. He'd experienced true friendship as Bucky Barnes with Steve Rogers—and he'd stumbled right into another amazing friendship with Ari as the Winter Soldier. And so he understood that the "magic" that Gavin Hoffman was so desperately trying to understand…was nothing more than pure, unselfish friendship.

"Why should I explain anything to you?" he asked, his voice tight with anger. "I don't owe you anything." And he certainly wasn't about to talk about his friendship with Ari to this disgusting man. It would feel dirty, like he was defiling their friendship. "You—HYDRA—took everything from me."

"I suppose you have questions," Hoffman said, his eyes haunted and hungry. "Fine. You ask and I'll answer. And then you _will _tell me Aritamis Madden's secret."

The Winter Soldier was vaguely reminded of the time Ari promised him he could ask her questions in exchange for her asking him questions. "Fine," he spat. "Tell me why. Tell me why you picked _me_. Out of everyone in the world—why did you pick me? I was half-dead when you found me. Why pick Bucky Barnes instead of any other man in the world—preferably one who _hadn't _just fallen hundreds of feet?"

Gavin Hoffman took a few steps backwards, unwittingly taking himself further away from the Winter Soldier, who had been positioning himself to attack Hoffman, and the Winter Soldier mentally cursed him. Hoffman shrugged. "Truthfully? I have no idea. I wouldn't be born for another decade."

"You've obviously read my files!" the Winter Soldier sand angrily, clenching his cybernetic hand threateningly and Hoffman whipped the gun back up to face him.

"Ah, ah, ah, Soldier," he said slowly, eyes cold. "Watch your step. We wouldn't want you getting shot, now would we? Despite all your mistakes…I still have faith you will return to HYDRA. You were—are—our most valuable assets. Though we do have other assets ready to come out and play, in other places in the world… Have you met the twins?"

"The twins?" repeated the Winter Soldier.

"Ah, no, you wouldn't have… Never mind that. You'll see soon enough. Back to the topic at hand. Which was…why HYDRA picked you. Well, my dear Soldier, I'm being honest now. I don't know. The reason isn't in your files either. Perhaps you were convenient, what with your arm nearly being torn off in the fall. Perhaps it was your connection to the brave"—Hoffman's voice dripped with disdain—"Captain America they liked. Either way, I don't know."

One mystery the Winter Soldier would never solve. He stuffed his disappointment deep down inside of him and moved on, taking a small step forward. "Then tell me why HYDRA even…invented me in the first place. What is the purpose of all this? All this—this chaos? These wars? Me…killing people?"

"Why do you think?" Hoffman asked scornfully. "Use what little brain you have, you fool!" He began to pace, his expression bordering on mad again of a sudden. "Think! The world is corrupt, Soldier. It has been, since the dawn of time. Perhaps…perhaps there was a time when it wasn't. Thousands of years ago, when civilizations flourished. But that's all changed in the last couple of centuries. The world is rotten. Half the people starve to death, the other half drown in their money and fat. People are simultaneously frightened and scornful. Lies, corruption, immorality…is there any disgusting flaw that is _not _prevalent among society? HYDRA dreams of building a better world. A safer, more regulated world. But to do that, we needed to tear the old one down. And what better way to do it than to slowly ignite chaos around the world? You—and a few other tools like you, though none are _quite _like you—have done our work for us. We got to sit back and watch the world burn. Wars, genocide, chaos…slowly we brought it upon the world, knowing that in time—when we swooped in to save everyone—people would _willingly _bow down to us. If there's one lesson history has taught us, it is that you cannot force people to follow you. So we aimed to trick and manipulate people into following us. We guided them in the right direction and they would eventually come to welcome us with open arms."

He stopped pacing, his brow sweaty and eyes wide and bloodshot, and quietly said, "The world is such a disgusting place, don't you think so? Such a filthy place, even with you—though you did manage to add your own pieces of filth to it."

The Winter Soldier tensed at Gavin Hoffman's reminder of all the people he had murdered in cold blood in the past and Hoffman's sharp, shark-like eyes locked onto the movement at once. He let out a harsh laugh and said, "Oh, does that make you feel _bad_? See, I was right. Aritamis Madden has done something extraordinarily, because I can see you clearly feel guilt over what you've done. But I wonder…do you know exactly what it is that you've done?"

The Winter Soldier clenched his jaw, his throat suddenly feeling blocked up. His heart was hammering, banging violently against his rib cage. His mind flickered with memories of people screaming—pleading—and he pressed his human hand to his head, pushing back his sweaty hair, trying to ignore the dull throb that was starting up in his head.

"Evelyn Caine," said Gavin Hoffman. "1946. You suffocated her while she slept."

"Shut up," growled the Winter Soldier, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. He didn't want to hear this from the mouth of Gavin Hoffman. He wanted to come to terms with this on his _own_.

"Mark Brewster," continued Gavin Hoffman. "Politician. You shot him in the head while he slept next to his wife."

"I said to shut up," snarled the Winter Soldier.

"Alexandru Banica. 1968. A very strong political activist. His main message was spreading peace and stopping war. He had five children and was very beloved. You ruined that."

The Winter Soldier felt like he couldn't breathe. It felt like his chest was on fire as Gavin Hoffman went on, listing out names and dates and places and methods of murder until the Winter Soldier felt like he was drowning in the blood of all the people he'd killed. Finally he snapped and lunged forward, blindly grabbing for Hoffman's face to shut him up for good—

_BANG, BANG, BANG! _Three shots sounded in rapid procession and the Winter Soldier felt his shoulder erupt into flames. He staggered back and looked down at his right shoulder; the bullets had grazed his arm, ripping the skin on the outside. Blood was leaking out. It was a flesh wound—he would survive—but it was painful as hell.

"Shall I continue?" asked Gavin Hoffman.

The Winter Soldier looked at Gavin Hoffman, hating every last piece of this vile man in front of him. He hated what he was reminding him off. He didn't want to be this way anymore. His mind was whirling with images of Ari and Steve—and others. Other people. His Howling Commandos. A dark-haired, red-lipped woman. Peggy Carter. Others. Girls at school. A boy—James—he'd done a school project with. Mr. Fargo, the man who used to sell him gum for cheap when he had been a young man and hadn't had much money. Miss Buchanan, who had the same last name as him and had been his first crush and he'd given her a daisy when he'd been twelve and she'd laughed sweetly and had broken his childish heart when he saw her with her beau the next day outside the bank. _These _people, these humans, they were who he was. Not the people he'd killed, not the families he'd torn apart. That had been him but he'd never wanted it, never asked for it. He'd never chosen it. That wasn't him.

"Face it!" shouted Gavin Hoffman, taking an increasingly close step to the Winter Soldier. "Face it! You are a _monster_! You are a murderous, despicable weapon! A creature! You have no family, no friends! This Aritamis, this Captain America—these people are all fickle and will all abandon you in disgust when they realize the horrors you have wrought!"

_Stop_, the Winter Soldier groaned in his own mind, trembling slightly as Gavin Hoffman continued in his onslaught. His mind filled with images of Steve and Ari backing away from him in horror if they heard the names of all the people he'd killed and he felt himself sweating, his mouth dry, his heart thundering painfully. Painful tears stung his eyes and he furiously blinked them away, focusing on the horrible things Hoffman was shouting at him.

"They will leave you! You will have no one! Except for HYDRA. Because you have always had HYDRA. You will always be HYDRA. You are a dangerous tool and you were a fool to think otherwise! Did you think you were capable of _love_? That you deserved love? After all the crimes you have committed? Why would a monster like you deserve friends? Love? A future? What about the futures of the people you've killed? You need to wake up from this childish, weak dream and realize that you are a cold-blooded killer, nothing more. And once you realize this, life will be so much easier for you, I promise! You are not worthy of love or even respect, but HYDRA has the mercy to hold you in some value, and for that, you should be _eternally grateful_, Soldier—"

"MY NAME IS NOT SOLDIER!" the Winter Soldier suddenly screamed madly, lunging at Gavin Hoffman. "IT'S BUCKY!"

The steel cable that had connected Bucky to HYDRA snapped in one crystal moment. It snapped in half suddenly, the recoil slapping into Bucky's face, but the sting felt good. It felt like waking up and taking a breath of fresh air. It burned his throat and his nose but it made him feel alive, like he was on fire inside—and after decades of the numbing ice, this was a welcome feeling.

Gavin Hoffman had loosened his grip on his machine gun so when Bucky grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and viciously dragged him over to the roof of the building, the machine gun fell out of his grip with ease. Bucky kicked it aside roughly with his combat boot and then shook Hoffman, holding him in a threatening grip over the side of the building, ready to drop him at any moment's notice.

"Tell me what I should be _eternally grateful_ for!" he shouted, shaking Hoffman so violently that the man let out sharp cries of fearful shock, looking behind him at the forest floor—five stories below—beneath him. He would never survive the fall. "TELL ME!" yelled Bucky, his head and heart both pounding in simultaneous rhythm. "What should I be grateful for? You ruining my life? You erasing my memories? You turning me into a weapon? I'm not a monster—_you _are! I didn't make any decisions—_you _did! So you TELL ME what I should be grateful for!" He gave Hoffman a violent shake, his hands trembling with so much rage that he could barely contain himself.

"P-Please!" cried Hoffman. His face had gone pale as his arms wind-milled wildly in the air, trying desperately to grab onto Bucky's shirt, _anything_, to hold onto. A dark stain spread across the front of his pants and Bucky noticed with disgusted pleasure that he'd wet himself in fear. "If you let me go—I'll give you your files! Your memories! Anything you want!"

"You said I destroyed the device to decode my files," Bucky hissed darkly, his grip on the man's throat tightening.

"I—I was lying!" Gavin Hoffman yelled in a panic. "I have another device hidden in my office! If you let me go, I'll take you to it and you can have your files. I'll even show you the memory machine and you can leave with all your stupid little friends!" He didn't seem so threatening now, Bucky noted grimly, now that he was without his weapon. Bucky didn't like a man who hid behind weapons and false bravery. Even back when he'd been the Winter Soldier, he had been more than just all talk. He could walk the walk.

He still could, in fact.

"I've had enough of your lies," he whispered—and then he simply opened his fingers. He heard Gavin Hoffman's scream getting fainter and fainter as he fell and then all he could feel was the warm summery breeze envelop him as he stood there, fingers still frozen open. He didn't know how long he stood there, unmoving, just taking time to take it all in…but then he remembered Ari and Alex and Steve and Sam and Natasha. His friends. Well, except for Alex. His open fingers clenched in. He still had some business to attend to.

He yanked the roof door open a few times before he remembered that Hoffman had locked it—and had fallen to his death with the remote still in his pocket. Shrugging, Bucky picked up the machine gun and began firing with extreme precision at the door lock area, his dark blue-green eyes narrowed. Eventually he heard a popping noise and a small broken buzzing sound and the door clicked open. He kicked it open and threw himself over the railing, jumping down several flights of stairs in one go. He was in a hurry to see what had happened to his friends in the time he'd been with Gavin Hoffman.

When he entered the main floor, the first thing he noticed was that there was…silence. No shouting, no gunfire, nothing at all. He kept the machine gun at the ready as he cautiously moved through the halls, wondering where everyone had gone. His heart gave a nasty jump every time he saw a body on the ground and it would settle with relief every time he realized it was yet another HYDRA agent. So far he hadn't seen any of his friends dead. This was good news. So…where were they?

"On your left!" someone shouted and he whirled, ducking, as Steve's shield slammed into the wall behind him. Sam walked up, grinning, and Steve was close behind him, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Sam," he said, "I didn't mean for you to throw it at _Bucky_."

Sam shrugged and grinned. "I knew he'd duck in time. And look, he did. You're not mad, are you, Barnes?" he asked.

"No," said Bucky. "I'm not." He locked eyes with Steve and both of them broke into hesitant smiles.

"You're alive," said Steve.

"Yes, I am," said Bucky.

"What happened to Hoffman?" asked Sam. "Did you get him? _Please _tell me you got him."

"I got him," said Bucky with grim pleasure. Sam let out a whoop of joy.

"As much as I love the brilliant eloquence and emotion of this moment," came a dry voice—and there she was, beautiful even after a battle and several cuts on her cheek, walking up behind Steve—"shouldn't we be finding Ari?" Natasha placed her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at him.

"You didn't find her?" Bucky's voice got ever so slightly hoarser, as his worry increased. Where the hell was Ari?

"We were sort of busy fighting HYDRA agents," said Natasha. "But don't worry, we'll find Ari. The coast is clear now. Every single HYDRA agent—that we found, anyway—is dead."

"No, _I'll _find her," said Bucky.

"This again?" demanded Steve.

"Listen," said Bucky sharply. "I have another job for you." And then he quickly described what Gavin Hoffman had said, ending with, "I don't know if he's lying. But if"—he hesitated then—"if he was telling the truth…I can still get my files and my memories. And I need you guys to find these things and see if how they work, if they really exist. I'm useless with technology."

"Sam and Natasha can do that," said Steve, "but I don't see why I can't come with you. We can be a team again."

"Trust me, dealing with Alex Madden is something I need to do on my own," said Bucky and his tone was so menacing then, at the thought of Alexian Madden, that Steve raised an eyebrow but said, "Fine. Again, I trust you. You seem—you seem different," he added, hesitating slightly. "Even from before, in the room. What happened with Hoffman?"

Bucky didn't know how to answer this. He didn't know how to tell Steve that even though he would never feel completely like Bucky Barnes again, he still felt more like Bucky than he ever had before. He wasn't the Winter Soldier anymore and he never would be again, even if the Winter Soldier was a dark stain on him that he'd never be able to erase. "Let's just say that the cable snapped," he said quietly, his voice burning with a suppressed emotion.

It was evident that Steve didn't quite get that, but he was sharp enough to catch onto the fact that obviously Bucky had come to terms with _something _with Hoffman, so he nodded solemnly, said, "Be careful," and then followed Sam and Natasha out the door. Bucky watched them go for the second time that day and then went off in search of the Madden siblings.

He combed through the entire main floor and just as he was about to set up the same stairwell he and Ari had been in earlier, heading up to the next floor, he cocked his ears and listened closely. He'd thought…he'd heard a noise echoing from down below. He only paused for a second and then he was racing downstairs to the basement again, bursting through the door he'd battered earlier, to see something very strange.

For a moment, he had no idea what he was looking at. All he could see was a struggle of limbs and flying dark brown hair and the noises of two people fighting—and then he realized with horror what was going on. Alex was trying to shove Ari into a cryo chamber. Bucky didn't know _what _Alex was planning to do—freeze her properly? Probably not…He probably only wanted to lock her in a chamber so she could suffocate to death—but he wasn't going to give Alex the chance to have his way. Ari was putting up a furious fight but Alex was much larger than her and she was already wounded. He had already half forced her into the chamber, a syringe in his fist, when Bucky slammed into him. Both of them went sprawling and smashed into a table against the wall, which fell over, surgical tools scattering all over the floor.

"Ari, get back!" Bucky shouted—and then he and Alex were off and away again. It was like before, in Ari's family room, except this time the fight was furious and more deadly. Both of them were fighting to kill or at least seriously injure. Bucky's shot arm screamed in pain as he punched Alex repeatedly, wrestling with him, and soon both of them were covered in blood—mostly Bucky's, as his arm wound was still bleeding—but he definitely still had the upper hand.

"Soldier, get back here!" he heard Ari shout. He punched Alex one last time in the face, slamming Alex's head against the ground, and then he leaped to his feet. He backed up, breathing heavily, to where Ari was. She stood with her feet spread apart on the ground and she was holding a gun and pointing it at Alex, who was getting to his feet and groaning. Her face was pale and determined but Bucky noticed her hands were shaking badly and her mouth turned down at the corners as though she might be sick. Her bruises looked bad, her hair was messy, and she was bleeding from all over.

Alex looked up at Ari pointing the gun at him from across the room and he began to laugh nastily. "Oh please," he sneered. "Don't be so pathetic. As if you could ever have the guts to shoot me, Ari."

"I could do it," said Ari, taking a deep shuddering breath. "Why couldn't I?"

"Because I'm your brother," said Alex and Ari let out a harsh laugh.

"Is that supposed to matter?" she asked bitterly. "That you're related to me? You're a monster. You've taken everything from me. You're rotten and disgusting and I want nothing more than for you to die. You made my life miserable growing up. You beat me up. You were a lazy coward who never wanted to do work or do anything for our parents. The stress you put on them killed them. You never even attended their funeral. You made a deal with HYDRA. You stole Dani from me. You sold Soldier and I out to HYDRA. And you were just trying to kill me right now. And you think I should give a _damn _that you're my brother? Get bent!"

Alex didn't respond, merely glared at her and gave the gun in her shaking hands an apprehensive glance.

"Family doesn't just start and end with blood!" she said, her voice a little more shrill with fury and hurt now. "So don't call yourself my brother! You're _nothing _to me except a piece of garbage I have to get rid of!"

"So do it," taunted Alex. "Do it, then! If you're so brave, pull the trigger!"

"I will!" shouted Ari—but she didn't. She stared at Alex, pointing the gun right at him, but she didn't pull the trigger. Her face was extremely pale (though whether this was from blood loss or fear and nerves, Bucky couldn't tell) and she was sweating now. Her hands were shaking so badly that Bucky was afraid she might drop the gun or accidentally shoot herself in the foot or something. Her lips trembled as she whispered something to herself that Bucky couldn't decipher. She looked like she might vomit.

"Ari," he started in a low voice, but Alex cut him off.

"See?" he crowed triumphantly. "I told you that you can't do it! So much for your grand speech, you stupid little bitch! You talk like you're a big girl, like you're so brave, but you can't even pull the trigger!"

And then Bucky knew Ari could never pull the trigger. She might hurt someone in the heat of the moment, if it was kill or be killed, but she could never deliberately murder someone in cold blood, no matter how vile the person was. Some would consider it a heroic trait, others would consider it a fatal flaw, but either way, it was one hundred percent _Ari_. It was who she was, and who she would always be: a good person. She would always be a good person. She would always be the one to hesitate before shooting. And Bucky was happy it was this way. A world where Ari Madden shot someone without hesitation would be a dark world indeed, one that he wasn't sure he would want to be in. Ari was better than she him and that was the way it was supposed to be. She was a kind person. She was selfless.

He wasn't as selfless or kind.

He took the gun gently from her shaking hands and then pointed it at Alex. His hands were perfectly steady and his voice almost bored as he said, "Bravery isn't pulling the trigger. Bravery is knowing when not to pull the trigger. And Ari is a hundred thousand times braver than you could ever be."

"Ari, wait—" started Alex, suddenly looking fearful.

"This," said Bucky, "is from Dani." He shot Alex in his left thigh and Alex dropped to his right knee after letting out a scream of shock and pain. He looked down at the blood pouring from his thigh and then looked back up at Ari and Bucky in disbelief, as if he couldn't believe he'd been shot. It had probably never occurred to him that the bully could be bullied. Groaning, he grabbed the edge of a table nearby and dragged himself upright, his left leg a trembling and bloody mess.

Bucky pointed the gun at Alex's right thigh and then Alex suddenly pleaded, "Ari, please! Please, make him _stop_! I'm sorry, okay? I'll do whatever you want—I'll let you keep your house—I'll leave you the hell alone—please stop him!"

"This," said Bucky, "is from me." He fired a shot into Alex's left thigh and Alex dropped to his knees with another piercing cry of pain. Now pathetic tears were rolling down his face as he groaned and bent over, his hands scrabbling uselessly at his bloody legs, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

Bucky looked at Ari, who was shaking but had a very resolute expression on her face, and she looked at him—and then gave the slightest of nods. Her mouth trembled and her blue eyes seemed glassy but she didn't betray any emotion as Bucky waited for Alex to finally look up at them—and then he pointed the gun at Alex's head.

"And this," said Bucky—

"ARI, PLEASE!" Alex's voice rose to a piteous scream.

"—is from Ari," he said and then he fired. _BANG. _And then there was silence as Alex fell to the floor, blood and brain matter covering the ground behind him. Ari forced herself to stare at the body for a moment, every part of her trembling, a sheen of sweat on her deathly-pale face. But her expression was emotionless and hard. No crying or sadness. Bucky let her stare at the body for as long as she wanted, waiting silently by her. She needed to do this, to finally get closure for all the pain Alex had put her through. Finally, she swallowed, tilted her chin up in a manner that seemed oddly regal, and turned away. She looked at Bucky and silently mouthed, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied quietly.


	13. Chapter 13

The walk back upstairs was silent. Ari didn't speak to him or look at him and her expression was distant. Bucky was afraid of talking to her. He didn't know what was going on in her mind. She'd given him her approval and thanks for finally killing Alex—but who knew how she was feeling now? Knowing Ari, she was probably wracked with guilt. A part of him wanted to tell her that none of this was her fault—that Alex had brought it upon himself—but a part of him was still too afraid to touch upon something this emotional with her. So he stared straight ahead and tried to act like nothing had just happened. Like he hadn't just killed her brother.

"You're bleeding." Her voice was quiet and without emotion. He looked down at his arm in surprise, almost having forgotten it was bleeding, and hoarsely said, "Yeah…"

"Let me fix it," she said. "Let's go back to that first aid kit." She headed off without checking to see if he came or not and he follower her, a bit wary of this suddenly-solemn Ari. She pulled the first aid bag out of the room he'd sat in to watch her get tortured and patted the floor next to her, sitting down. He sat down and ripped the sleeve of his shirt off (it was hanging on by mere tatters anyway). He wordlessly held his arm out to her and she began to clean the wound off and stitch the skin back together.

"It's not perfect," she said, "but it'll do until we can get you to a hospital."

"I found Bucky," he told her quietly.

She looked up at him, her expression a bit confused. "What?"

He cleared his throat, feeling a bit awkward. This was strange to discuss—but if there was someone who needed to hear it, it was the person who had tried so hard to get his memories back. "I…I don't feel connected to HYDRA anymore. I'm not going to call myself the Winter Soldier anymore. I'm Bucky Barnes. Not…not the same Bucky Barnes I was before. A different one. But still Bucky. But you can still call me Soldier," he added quickly.

Ari looked surprised. "But why?"

"Because…because it doesn't sound so bad when you say it," he said thoughtfully.

Ari smiled somewhat sadly. "Thank you. I admit…I kind of like calling you that. It's the first thing I knew you by. And you still _are_ a soldier. You just play for the good team now."

Did he? Bucky wasn't quite sure. Killing Gavin Hoffman, getting his files and memories back from HYDRA, these were all one thing…but playing for the opposite side? Was he really ready to get back into a life of fighting? Could he even control himself, if he did so?

"Alright," she said, finishing up by rubbing an alcohol swab on his arm and he winced at the stinging cold. "All done."

They stood up and just as they did, Steve's voice rang out. "There you guys are! We've been looking." He stopped short at the strange expressions on both Bucky's and Ari's faces and asked, "Is everything okay? What happened to your brother?"

"He died," Ari said shortly.

"Want to tell me _how _he died?" asked Steve.

"Not really," she said.

Steve frowned for a moment but then Bucky shot him a look, one that said _Don't push it, I'll tell you later_, and Steve backed off for the moment, thankfully. "Right," he said, "well…we found your things, Bucky. Follow me." He led them down the hall, through a set of double doors, to a room with a terrifying-looking chair and multiple wires coming out of it. The room was full of unopened cardboard boxes and it looked like someone had set the chair up in a hurry and then left it there. Natasha was sitting on it when they entered, swinging a black device around her fingers. She slid off the chair when they walked in and asked Ari, "You okay?"

"Yeah," Ari muttered. "I'm fine."

"What happened to your—" started Natasha but both Steve and Bucky shot her a look this time and both Natasha and Sam, who had been leaning against the wall, seemed to realize it wasn't a discussion for this time. So she cleared her throat. "Right. Well…you're in luck, Barnes. I searched Hoffman's office—"

"Search," scoffed Sam. "You _destroyed _it."

Natasha shrugged and grinned. "So I found this decoder. I think Hoffman was telling the truth—this may be another one. And I found his laptop too, so I hacked into his files—for a personal laptop, it had terrible security—and I found _this _information." She gestured to the chair. "As it turns out, the way your memories were erased…well, they weren't erased. They were suppressed. Smothered, in a way. They're still there, buried under years of coating them with psychological torture and…well, to be honest? I'm not sure. This technology is beyond even me. But I get the gist of it—and the gist is that your memories are still there."

"And?" he prompted.

She paused. "Okay, so this is the bad part. There is a way to reverse the process. It…it rips the covering off the memories, so to speak. Only here's the thing…in trial runs that they tested it out, over half the test subjects lost their minds and went insane after they sat in this chair. Around eighty-six percent, actually, which is a very high number. And you've had decades of memory wiping done on you…"

"I'm doing it," he grunted.

"Now wait just a minute," Steve said sharply. "Going _insane_? Bucky, listen, I want you to remember your past as much as you do—but this is a huge risk."

"It's also torturously painful," Natasha added slowly. "Half of the people who went insane went insane because they couldn't handle the excruciating pain."

"And there's that!" Steve said, looking a bit frantic now. "You can't do this to yourself."

"I'm used to torture," said Bucky, "and I'm doing this."

"You sure, Soldier?" Ari asked, her voice still a bit thin. "Eighty-six percent is a really high percentage. Those odds are not in your favor."

"We _could _get Stark in here," suggested Natasha. "Have him take a look at it—maybe make it safer or…or improve Barnes' chances? I know Stark'll _kill _to have a look at this technology. In fact, I'm probably going to have it airlifted to him as soon as I get back to Fury on this…"

"No," said Bucky, not even bothering to ask who Stark was. "I'm not waiting for anyone. I've waited decades for this. I'm doing this _now_."

There was silence in the room and then Steve rounded on Ari. "Ari—he listens to you," he said. "Tell him not to do this. He'll lose his mind!"

Ari looked unhappy at being put in a difficult position but she said, "I think he should do this if he _wants _to. I mean…I'm scared too. Those odds aren't good. But Soldier knows what he's risking and this is his life. Don't you think he's been in the dark for long enough?"

Bucky raised his eyebrows at Steve as if to say _See? _And Steve took a step back, his face falling. He knew he was defeated. Sam was silent, his expression unusually solemn, and Natasha warningly said, "Alright, listen. I know how to start the machine up and all that jazz—but I have no idea what it does to you. So are you sure you're ready for this?"

"I'm ready," he said in a determined voice and settled back into the chair. He remembered all the times he'd been sat in a chair similar to this in the past years only to have his memories suppressed. Funny that he was now subjecting himself to the same exact torture. Then again, the outcome would make all the difference in the world.

_If I survive_. The thought rose to his mind, unbidden, and he tried to kick it away. No. He could do this. He could survive. He hadn't lived this long only to lose his mind getting his life back.

"Ari, come help me," called Natasha and Ari hurried forward. For the next twenty minutes, they prepped the machine. Wires had to be plugged into the wall and Natasha—reading from some sheets of paper she'd claimed she'd found in Hoffman's office—snapped on switches and filled tubes with chemicals she found in a box next to the chair. The box was a bit dusty. Obviously no one had been tested on this chair since HYDRA had quickly set up in this cheap building. Ari snapped metal cuffs onto his upper arms, forearms, above his knees, and above his ankles. She inserted a mouth piece into his mouth and he bit down on it. His gag reflex rose up but he pushed it back down, used to doing this sort of thing. He watched her face as she worked, wondering how she felt about all of this. She was still pale but she looked calmer now. Her expression betrayed no emotion at all and he wondered if she really wanted him to do this or not. Or perhaps she was thinking about Alex. He had no idea how Alex's death would affect her. One day…one day he'd ask for the full story.

"Okay, we need to get these injections going," said Natasha. Ari nodded and hooked up the tubes filled with strange chemicals—some of which had a fluorescent, glowing quality to them—to the stands that ran up and down either side of the chair. The tubes had long, thin tubes that came out of them and ended with needles, which Ari wiped down with alcohol swabs and then began to inject into him. He ignored every tiny stab as she inserted them into his neck, his inner arms, his thighs…on both sides of his body. Then they lowered the strange basket sort of thing that hung over his head and began attaching the electrodes that hung from it to his head. He felt like some sort of animal that was being dissected.

Finally they were done and they both stepped back. "Alright," said Natasha, frowning slightly. "I'm going to start it and then we're all going to clear out. We'll keep the door open a crack in case you need us or something goes wrong. I'll decode your files in the meanwhile."

Bucky could barely move his head and he certainly couldn't speak but he nodded to the best of his ability. He was glad they were leaving. He didn't want anyone to have to see this. Sam patted him on the shoulder as he walked by and said, "Good luck. I hope you survive this."

Steve looked him in the eyes and said, "You _will _survive this. I'll see you when it's over, Bucky." And then he left quickly, as if seeing Bucky connected to all these wires and needles was hurting him.

Ari gave him a faint smile and said, "Stay strong, Soldier. Don't forget to breathe. You just did me the greatest favor anyone's ever done for me—don't ruin it by dying on me." She clasped his hand for a moment and then she left as well.

"You ready?" Natasha asked. She took a deep breath and then flipped several switches on large black metal box that was connected to the chair. The box itself was connected to an outlet in the wall by a thick black cord. He heard the box whir and then hum to life and then he heard the faint sound of electrical humming start up. He saw Natasha walk out of the room, shutting the door behind her, and he gasped a bit when he felt tiny pinches all up down his body as the fluids hooked into him began to seep into him.

And then it began. Small at first, with tiny sharp pinches in his brain, behind his eyes, and he screwed up his eyes against the pain. But then the pain began to build just as ghostly voices began to echo in his head. And then pain kept building and building…

What happened next was unbearable. Indescribable. Torture of the worst kind. Pain like nothing he'd ever felt before thundered through him—_and he was locked in place with no way to escape. _All his strength had left him and he could no more move and crawl away than a two-day-old infant could. All he could feel were the white-hot knives that ripped his skull open and slashed through his brain. The white-hot molten lava that poured all over his mind, melting his brain matter until he felt like it might leak through his ears, his eyes melting in their sockets. His mouth was open in an endless scream and he thrashed feebly against the restraints, as memory after memory assaulted him. The serums and electric shocks pounding through his body were violently ripping away the thick bandages that had been smothering his memories and he wanted to die a thousand times over. The memories pounded him in the face, hurtling through his mind at warp speed, and he was reliving his entire past life in one go. He had never expected memory retrieval to feel this way. It felt like someone was slowly ripping him apart, nerve by nerve, muscle by muscle, ribbon of skin by ribbon of skin. It felt like it would never end. Death would have been preferable, ten thousand times over. What was death, really, anyway? A sweet, silent sleep? Compared to this hell, he would have died a thousand deaths.

Memories hurled in his face. So many memories that he thought he might seize up from the attack. He could remember _everything _and it was ripping his mind apart. The strain was too much for his mind to take and he kept screaming and screaming and screaming, his screams choked by the piece of plastic stuffed into his mouth. He was like a dying, wounded animal that had been gagged and was now being skinned alive. His mind was being filleted, sliced off strip by strip. Sweat poured down his face, mixing with the salty tears on his cheeks and the spit and drool on his chin as he remembered his childhood and growing up and everything he'd said and done and all the people he'd met and known. The pain was worse than anything he could have ever imagined and the scream in his head kept building to a crescendo until—_I can't do this anymore—let it end please—nonononononoNONONONONO—_

And suddenly it was over. He lay there, his whole body drenched with sweat, tears leaking out of his mouth and spit dripping from his open mouth. He felt like he was paralyzed. He could barely move, that's how limp and weak he felt. As if an entire cruise liner had slowly rolled over him, turning him into human sawdust. His heart was hammering but he felt like he been boiled and then crushed and then flung about like a rag doll. His lips trembled and he felt like some newborn child who had been ripped from his mother's womb. The lights in the room were too bright and he wept.

_But he remembered_. He remembered and fresh tears leaked out of his eyes and streamed down his face as he silently wept for the man he had lost and the man he had become. He could never be the old Bucky again but at least he _remembered _him. He remembered everything. He remembered his parents. He remembered what subjects he'd learned in school. He remembered reading books and loathing _A Tale of Two Cities _because it was too much romance and not enough of the French Revolution. He remembered choking on a piece of cake at his eleventh birthday party and he remembered punching his cousin, Annie, in the face when he was six. He remembered his fist kiss with a girl named Lydia who smelled like violets when he was fifteen and he remembered hiding a math exam with a bad score from his mother. He remembered Steve's mother dying and him trying to get Steve to live with him. He remembered all the good, human parts of his life as Bucky Barnes.

And he remembered the dark parts as well. He remembered being simultaneously proud when he'd been drafted but also terrified because now he was leaving his friend behind. He remembered shooting people and crouching in the dirt, bleeding, and wondering if he'd ever make it out alive. Being captured, laying on a gurney, mumbling his name and his number to himself again and again after Zola had experimented on him. Being saved by Steve. Heading back into battle with Steve. Losing his grip from the train and then falling, falling, falling until he hit the rocks and his arm felt like it had been ripped off and then he dozed. Waking up in a strange room. Being attacked. Fighting back. Being injected with drugs. Being attacked again. Fighting back again. Being injected again. Repeat a hundred times. Being trained. Being drugged with chemicals. Being experimented on. He remembered vomiting and crying and being slapped in the face. He remembered being shown photos of his family and their faces would slowly vanish as the photos went on, trying to make them vanish from his mind as well. He remembered the dark things that came after, the things he didn't want to dwell on him. Those faces would haunt his nights for the rest of his life, he knew that now. They would never leave him. His victims were a part of him.

But he was more than that now. Because now he had new memories. He remembered stumbling around in the woods, his head filled with blinding pain, and Ari picking him up. He remembered smashing the ceramic swan. Being questioned by Ari. Getting into a fight with Alexian Madden and beating the crap out of him while Ari screamed. Ari driving him out of town. Meeting Steve with Ari. Looking at old photos in Steve's house. Ari telling him the story of Danika. Meeting Sam who was a friendly, friendly guy and Natasha, whose smirk didn't even bother him anymore because she had done so much for him as well and was good deep down. And there were more. More people he would meet in the future.

He had a new constant and that was Ari. She had tethered him to this reality while he had drifted, a man obsessed and possessed, and he could never repay her for that. He still didn't feel fully human. A hollow part of him realized he would always feel part robot. But he would be as good a friend to Ari that he could be. She had reunited him with Steve, the man he _finally _truly remembered as his best friend and brother, and he could never repay her for that. Steve was his family and she had brought them back together.

"Soldier!" Ari burst into the room, looking pale. "Is it done? I h-heard you screaming in the hall but you stopped so I thought—I thought—Do you remember me?" she asked anxiously. "Do you know who you are? Do you remember Bucky?" She looked extremely anxious, as if she were afraid he might blankly look at her and ask, "Who the hell is Bucky?" or perhaps start babbling incoherently as if he indeed gone insane in the process.

Bucky smiled sweetly at Ari and she looked very shocked for a moment, mouth falling open. He had never shown any bit of affection towards her, always uncomfortable and closed off. She knew he cared in his own, strange way but she'd never expected any sort of obvious sign of it (besides him fighting alongside her). He beckoned for her to come closer and she did, hesitantly, as if she didn't know who he was anymore, her eyebrows drawing together. He motioned for her to lean close and she did so slowly, warily. Once she was close enough, her hair brushing against his face, he whispered into her ear: "I do." That was the most he could manage for a moment.

Her mouth fell open for a moment—and then she crushed him with a hug (or as much she could hug him with him strapped down onto the chair). "SOLDIER! That's—that's amazing!" He noticed she was crying and he didn't begrudge her it. This has been Ari's journey as much as it had been his. Ari had always been a strong person—anyone would have to be, growing up with a monster like Alex—but she had displayed tremendous courage in the past 24 hours, what with being tortured and then finally shooting Alex.

"Except it feels like I've been crushed a thousand times," he said, wincing from her tight grip. His body was screaming in pain at her grasp.

"Oh! Sorry!" She immediately leaped away and he let out a small sigh of relief. "That…"

"I know." He gave a small smile. "That…sucks."

His use of their terrible inside joke eased any tension in the room and Ari burst out laughing, though her laughter sounded exhausted. "That sucks," she said, chuckling. "It really does suck. I think that may be the _only _time you've used that that actually makes any sense."

"How long…?" he whispered.

She swallowed, her expression tight. "Four hours."

Four hours. Four hours of excruciating torture of the worst kind. His old life, his memories, they were worth four measly hours. That was all it had taken. Somehow, it rankled him. It should have taken longer. These memories were so important, it should have taken hours. Days. Years. Because that was what he had lost. They were silent for a moment and then he shook his shackles and said, "I think you should unlock me now."

She hurried to unclasp his shackles and then she helped him from the chair. His legs felt like jelly and he stumbled and nearly fell over, feeling a limp spaghetti noodle. He staggered into Ari who let out an "Oof!" and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, trying to support him. "Steve!" she shouted. "Get in here, I need your help!"

Steve burst in, looking panicked for a second, as if he might find Bucky on the floor rocking back and forth and babbling inanely to himself. When he saw Ari struggling under his weight, he immediately wrapped Bucky's arm around his own neck and supported him. Ari ducked away, giving a sigh of relief. "Bucky?" asked Steve, his eyes searching Bucky's face. "You're alright?"

Bucky gave an exhausted smile. "I'm fine. I remember."

Steve's eyes lit up and he led Bucky out to the hall, helping him to settle down on a bench against the wall. Natasha and Sam were sitting on the floor nearby, leaning against the wall. Natasha had a baseball cap covering her entire face, arms crossed and legs crossed at the ankles. She looked like she was asleep but when Bucky exited the room, she took the cap off and looked at him. "Wow, Barnes. You managed to survive that. I admit, that's pretty amazing."

"We heard you screaming," Ari explained, her voice sounding a bit pained. "It sounded…terrible. Steve kept wanting to go in and stop the whole thing. It took all three of us to hold him back."

"And _I_ got elbowed in the face," Sam said.

"I said I was sorry!" said Steve, throwing up his hands.

"You almost damaged the _face_!" said Sam, pointing indignantly at his face. "Do you know how many women would weep if you damaged my face?"

"Every lady on the planet would cry," Ari said solemnly. "I'm glad for the female population of earth that your face was spared, Sam."

Natasha snorted with laughter and even Bucky smiled. Steve chuckled and Sam rolled his eyes but he couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. He was just naturally a very positive sort of man, Bucky could tell. Steve sat next to him on the small bench and Ari settled down on the floor next to Natasha. For a while they all just sat there, feeling and looking a bit exhausted—but please nonetheless. They all had bruises, cuts, and injuries and Bucky felt very weak at the moment, the pain from the memory machine having sapped him of his strength momentarily, but the mission had ended well. Gavin Hoffman was dead, Alex Madden was dead, all the HYDRA agents here were dead, he had gotten his memories back and finally felt like Bucky Barnes again, and—

"My files," he said suddenly, looking at Natasha. "Did you get them decoded?"

She smiled an everyone-bow-down-to-me sort of smile. "Yes I did." She patted a stack of papers next to her on the ground. "Don't worry, I didn't read them. You can take your sweet time reading them, burning them, whatever…when we go back."

Then they sat in silence again. Everyone looked tired and lost in thought. Bucky knew they should get moving soon but really, what was the hurry? No one was after them (for now, anyway). Ari looked very distant, clearly thinking hard about something. Her mouth had a pinched look about it and Bucky knew she was thinking about Alex. He knew she didn't regret killing him—but still, killing someone blood-related to you had to have some sort of psychological toll on you. It would take time for Ari to come to terms with all that had happened and Bucky knew that was a journey she'd have to take alone. Not completely alone, though. He'd be there for her in whatever way he could, in whatever way she needed him best. Natasha also looked very distant and as Bucky looked at her, he couldn't help but remember the day he'd shot her. She'd shielded the man she was supposed to be protecting and he still remembered her determined expression before he'd shot right through her. He could have shot her through the heart, but he'd chosen to shoot her in the hip, knowing it wouldn't kill her. Perhaps there had been the tiniest bit of Bucky Barnes trying to influence him, even back when he was the Winter Soldier.

"I'm sorry, Natasha," he said out loud suddenly. She gave a start and looked at him. Everyone was looking at him, in fact. "I know I said it before, but I…I mean it this time. About shooting you. I wish I could take it back."

Natasha shrugged and smiled slightly. "It's fine, Barnes. You weren't yourself. And I'm just lucky you didn't shoot me in the head or something."

"And I'm sorry, Sam," he continued, "for ripping your wing off and kicking you off that helicarrier."

"It's cool, man, don't worry about it," said Sam. "Honestly? It felt kind of—well, not _good_, but…electrifying, being back in action. It felt kind of good to be saving the day again. So it wasn't an all bad situation. _Not _that that means I give you permission to keep ripping my wings off in the future," he added, looking a bit alarmed, and everyone chuckled at him.

Steve, on his part, kept switching between gazing at Bucky in something like awe, as if he couldn't believe he _really _had his best friend back—and asking, "So you remember this? What about this? Do you remember that?" and on and on and on. Bucky was exhausted and his mouth was dry and all he really wanted to do was sleep for hours and then eat the biggest meal he'd ever had, but he didn't begrudge Steve this moment. He knew Steve had been paralyzed with loneliness ever since he'd been woken up years ago, so this was a huge moment for him, perhaps one of the happiest moments in Steve's lie, actually. So he answered all of Steve's questions. It felt good, anyway, to be able to recall everything.

Ari got to her feet, stretching and wincing, and then walked over to Bucky and tilted his chin up, examining his face with a small frown. "Okay. We should get going. Soldier here needs rest and fluids and…yeah, basically rest. And we should get his arm checked out," she added, picking up his cybernetic arm and examining some of the damage it had. "But I don't really know who could…"

"Stark," said Natasha confidently. "He can fix any problem you might have."

"Fine, whatever," said Steve, sighing slightly. "Congrats, Bucky, you're going to meet Iron Man eventually. Try not to punch him in the face when he comes up with an annoying nickname for you."

"Aw, come on, Capsicle isn't _so _bad," Natasha started and she grinned when Steve shot her a look.

"Capsicle," mused Sam, getting to his feet as well. "I like that. Can I use th—"

"NO," said Steve loudly. Ari and Natasha laughed and Bucky felt extremely confused—but in a good way. In a way that felt like he'd eventually figure out what all these terms and names meant because he had all the time in the world now _and _people he trusted to tell him the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

"Ari needs to be checked over, too," said Bucky suddenly, looking at her injuries. "She was…she was tortured because of me," he added, still ashamed that he had sat there and watched it, though he hadn't had any choice in the matter.

"Is _that _what happened to you?" Steve asked, looking over at Ari's wounds. "I was wondering… That's incredibly brave of you."

Ari blushed. "It was…okay, fine, I admit it. It was horrible. But I survived."

"We all did," Sam said. "When we get back home, let's toast to that."

Steve helped him to his feet and half-carried, half-dragged Bucky out the building. This was pretty humiliating for Bucky, since he still liked to be very self-sufficient—a remnant from being the Winter Soldier—but he had no other choice. Once they were outside, Sam snapped open his wings (Ari's eyes became blue marbles again, at the sight of them, and Sam winked at her) and he grabbed Bucky's other arm and they sort of partly-dragged and partly-flew him down the road before Natasha rolled her eyes and said, "I'll go get the car, you guys wait here," and Sam and Steve paused with sheepish expressions on their faces that said _Why didn't I think of that?_

Once they were on the road, Ari asked, "So what are we doing now?" and Bucky murmured, "Heading home," before he fell asleep. He was extremely exhausted, felt like he'd been hit by a battering ram multiple times, and the soothing hum of the car over the highway lulled him to sleep in a matter of minutes. He didn't even realize it, but he had fallen while leaning on Ari, who in turn was leaning against the window. He was extremely heavy and it was uncomfortable for her but she looked at his sleeping face—which looked peaceful for the first time since she'd met him—and didn't have the heart to push him off. So she let him lean on her. In the end, she fell asleep as well, as did Natasha. Sam took the wheel this time, since he'd slept on the way there, and Steve fell asleep in the very back. Everyone was dead tired. It had been an emotional fight as much as a physical one.

It felt like Bucky had only been asleep for minutes before Ari was shaking him awake and whispering, "Soldier, we're home," but he could see from the slant of the sun in the sky that hours had passed. He got out of the car and almost fell over, that's how tired he still was. His eyelids fluttered slightly as he struggled not to sink onto the grass in Steve's front lawn and go to sleep in the sunshine like a cat. Steve and Sam helped him into Steve's house, up the narrow staircase, and into a guest bedroom. He collapsed on top of the comforter and was out like a light even as soon as he hit the bed.

While he slept, he dreamed vivid dreams. The dreams felt like a mix between actual dreams and real memories. So bright, so colorful, so loud…

_He stood outside of his own body and observed a 10-year-old Bucky Barnes throwing a piece of cake at a crying boy at a birthday party with rainbow balloons all around the room…the crying boy looked up and he had such bright blue eyes and blond hair…it was Steve. And suddenly they were sitting in a diner and he was in his own body now and Steve was nudging him and telling him that the girl in the corner had been eyeing him. He turned to see the girl; she sat on a stool with her back facing him, wearing a lavender dress, with long brown hair that was artificially curled. She slowly swiveled around and she had such bright blue eyes that he blinked as she smiled at him. She hopped off of her stool and walked towards him. She slid down onto the seat where Steve had sat a moment ago, but now Steve was gone. He smelled roses. And tears were rolling down his face and Ari leaned forward and pressed her hand against his burning forehead. "You're hot," she said quietly. "I can help you. Close your eyes." He closed his eyes and felt someone kiss his cheek. His eyes flew open and he was staring at a woman with long brown hair—but it wasn't Ari. It was his mother. His eyes burned and he sat up and said, "I've been a horrible person…"_

"_We all make mistakes," she murmured and then she hugged him. He smelled roses again. He hadn't hugged her in years, somehow he knew that the way people know things in dreams, but he hugged her back, feeling like he was a child again. "You're safe now," she said. _

His eyes flew open. A white ceiling fan turned lazily on the ceiling and the walls were painted a pale yellow that seemed to glow orange from the light of the setting sun. He blinked, pushing back his hair from his sweaty face. Such a strange dream…but it wouldn't do to dwell on dreams. He had reality to contend with now. He sat up and realized that he felt much better, even though his stomach was aching with hunger. A stack of folded clothes had been placed on the desk in the room, so he washed up in the bathroom and changed into the clothes (dark blue jeans and a dark blue button down t-shirt that he left unbuttoned with a white t-shirt underneath). He brushed his hair, which looked like it hadn't seen a brush in years, and spotted a razor laying on the bathroom counter, still in its packaging. He looked at it for a moment, wondering who had been thoughtful enough to provide all this—Ari or Steve? Perhaps both; they made a good, thoughtful pair and Bucky could only imagine how nauseatingly _good _they'd be if they somehow ended up together at some point in the future—but then he shrugged and picked up the razor. It was time for a shave. He was starting to look like a lumberjack, not a good look on _anyone _(not even lumberjacks).

When he was all tidied up, he headed downstairs, holding onto the wall for support. His hunger was dizzying and he could smell something good in the kitchen so he skipped the last five steps and leaped to the ground with a thud. He wandered into the kitchen to find Natasha, Steve, and Ari sitting at the kitchen table, all of them holding cups of coffee, with a plate of brownies on the table. Sam was asleep on the sofa in the family room, an arm thrown over his eyes as he snored lightly.

"Ah, Sleeping Beauty wakes," quipped Natasha.

"I'm glad you think I'm beautiful," he said, dropping into a chair and grabbing a brownie.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, impressed. "And he's gained a sense of humor! And an appetite," she added, watching as he took several more brownies.

"Oh no, he's always had that," grumbled Ari. "You wouldn't _believe _how much food I had to make for him. He needs the caloric intake of an Olympic gold-medalist swimmer."

"That's what happens when you're a serum-injected super-soldier," said Steve. "Natasha's seen me eat. She knows."

"Oh yes," said Natasha, "I know. What was it? _Two _loaves of French bread and a whole rotisserie chicken?"

Ari gasped and Steve grinned. "It was a _small _rotisserie chicken," he said.

"Here, wait, you need more than just brownies," said Ari, getting up. "I made other stuff too."

"You should have seen her in action," said Steve, his tone lit with admiration. "I thought she'd take a nap or something—but no, she rushed off to the store to buy and make food for all of us."

"That's because A) None of you seem like you know how to cook, B) Soldier needed to eat _real _food when he woke up, and C)," said Ari, setting down food on the table, "when I have nervous energy to work off, I do stuff. I can't sleep. It was either cooking or painting huge murals on your walls. And I had the funny feeling you wouldn't like that, Steve." She'd made some type of pasta dish, a huge bowl of salad, and there were two loaves of French bread and butter. Bucky shoved the brownies aside and got to work. He didn't even realize how hungry he was until he started eating…and didn't stop until half the food was gone. He and Steve alone made short work of the food while Natasha watched them with something akin to mingled disgust _and _awe. At one point she said, "You might want to actually _chew _your mouthfuls of bread before you swallow them, Barnes," and he considered hurling the bowl at her head but decided he was too hungry and kept eating.

Ari had been watching them as well, looking a bit startled by how much they ate, and then she got up, muttering something to herself, and began clattering around in the kitchen. "More food?" Steve asked, swallowing a cherry tomato whole.

"Uh, yeah," she said. "Natasha and I still need to eat. And Sam."

"Oh—I'm sorry," said Steve suddenly, looking at the food that he and Bucky had mostly eaten. His cheeks colored faint pink as he looked ashamed, like the old-fashioned gentleman he was. "That was really impolite of me… I should have offered the food to you and Natasha first, it's just that I was _so _hungry—"

"It's fine," said Ari, waving him off. "I have enough ingredients to make seconds. It won't take long, just boiling up pasta and cutting up a salad."

While she worked, they talked. Everyone's voice was a bit subdued due to all the nastiness they'd just gone through, but their spirits were still light. Bucky didn't talk much but he couldn't help but feel fond of everyone in the room as he looked around at them. Even Natasha. "I still don't get how you survived the machine," said Steve, frowning and moving around a noodle on his plate with his fork. "I mean…don't get me wrong, I'm obviously really glad you did. But the chances were so slim…"

"Soldier's been mentally tortured before," said Ari, stirring the pot. Her mouth pressed into a flat line and an angry glint came into her eyes, the way it always did when she spoke about the horrors HYDRA inflicted upon him. "I think maybe that had something to do with it. His mind was more used to extreme pain?"

"Very true," said Natasha. "His mind could easily have built up coping mechanisms to deal with extreme pain and torture that the rest of y—the rest of us wouldn't be able to handle." Nobody else seemed to notice her tiny slip but Bucky did and he looked at her very carefully, slowly thinking about what Natasha had just accidentally revealed about herself. Very interesting.

"All of you need to get checked out," said Ari, throwing spices and herbs into the pot. "You were incorrectly frozen in cryo and to be honest, I have no idea what that will do to you. You should be fine, but still, you need to get checked out."

"You're one to talk, you got tortured!" said Steve. "We'll _all _get checked out."

They heard a rustling sound from behind them and Bucky turned to see Sam sitting up on the sofa, rubbing his eyes with his fists. He yawned and then said, "Something smells good…"

"Dinner, courtesy of Ari," said Natasha. "Second serving. First one was demolished by the super-soldier brigade here." She hooked a thumb at Steve and Bucky. Steve gave Sam and innocent smile and Bucky looked down at his hands as if they were quite possibly the most interesting things he'd ever seen.

Sam sat down at the table and let out an appreciative noise as Ari set down the new bowls of food. "This looks freaking amazing, girl," he said. "Cute, professional nurse, knows how to cook, total badass when fighting HYDRA… Barnes, you're lucky you found her first."

Ari rolled her eyes and sat down and Bucky shook his head and scoffed lightly to himself, though he was smiling because he knew Sam was joking. (At least he hoped he was joking.) Smiling still felt a bit strange to him—something that he hesitated before doing—but it was slowly starting to feel more natural, now that he had all his memories back and remembered being a human with proper emotions.

For a while the only sounds in the kitchen were of Ari, Sam, and Natasha eating (and Natasha smacking Steve's hand as it crept towards another piece of bread) while Steve and Bucky sat there, both of them lost in thought. When it seemed like Ari, Sam, and Natasha were finally done eating, Bucky cleared his throat loudly. Everyone looked at him and he tried not shift uncomfortably in his chair. Giving orders had felt natural back at the HYDRA lair but it felt a bit strange now, to have everyone look at him as if his words meant something, were of importance or worth. He wasn't used to being looked at that way.

"So I think I should leave," he said. "Get out there on my own." He had been expecting some type of reaction—perhaps shock and exclamations of, "What? Why?" from Ari and Steve—but what he _didn't _expect was for everyone to exchange meaningful glances full of _knowing._

"What?" he demanded.

"We talked about this, Barnes," said Sam, "before I went to sleep. While you were conked out. Ari here brought it up."

"Sorry, Soldier," Ari said apologetically. "I just knew you'd try to walk away or leave. Because you feel like you need to go out on your own. Either to make amends for what you've done or to keep us out of the line of fire. I don't know. But…"

"Girl knows you well," said Natasha, shrugging and raising her eyebrows. "You acted exactly like she said you would."

Bucky blinked and then he glared at Ari, who glared back at him, an obstinate expression crossing her face. She was right, of course. He felt fondness for this group of people but he had put them in harm's way because of _him _enough times already. They'd all just risked their lives to help him. He knew that his presence still put all of them in danger, especially considering that HYDRA was definitely not totally sunk and if anyone knew he was still alive and out there, there would be a large price on his head. He could handle himself…but only if he was alone. He couldn't handle the thought of one of these people getting killed because of him. "I'm just putting you all in danger—" he started.

"Save it, Barnes," said Natasha. "If anyone's putting us in danger, it's me. All my secrets were exposed just a few weeks ago, remember? I'm more prominent in the spotlight than you are. Most people still think you're just a ghost or a legend. A _lot _of people are going to be after me, now that everyone knows everything I've done." She sighed to herself, looking very exhausted for a moment, and then she shook her head and snapped back to. "So don't even give us that crap. We didn't go through that BS at the HYDRA building only to have you run off on us."

"Plus, you kind of _can't_," said Steve. "Once Ari convinced us you would do this, we took measures to ensure you wouldn't."

"What measures?" Bucky asked suspiciously.

"I've called Director Fury," said Natasha. "We're going in to meet him."

Nick Fury. The first person he'd "killed" back when this whole fiasco had started. Bucky knew nothing about him except that he was a tall black man who had been the director of SHIELD and he'd been his first target. "A priority," Alexander Pierce had told him. "Nick Fury must be taken out. Do you understand?" And the Winter Soldier had nodded mutely. He'd have to apologize to him as well, even though it burned him inside to do it because he hadn't _chosen _to kill all these people. But he was responsible nonetheless.

"How is that a 'measure'?" Bucky asked skeptically. He couldn't see how just calling this one man could stop him from leaving.

"Because Director Fury is a force to be reckoned with," said Natasha, smiling slightly. "If there's one man on Earth you _don't _want after you, it's him. He'll find you, no matter how long it takes. He found Dr. Banner and let's just say that Banner was hiding somewhere that no one else could ever have found. Besides, you're going to want to have a talk with him. I know he has some interesting things to discuss with you and you're a free man now. You need your options, right? You can't just wander aimlessly. Director Fury can help you with your goals."

"I thought SHIELD was done," said Bucky.

"SHIELD is as done as HYDRA is done," said Steve grimly. "Meaning not at all. HYDRA is still out there—we all know that—and so is SHIELD. Granted, SHIELD's a bit weaker than HYDRA now…"

"Or a _lot _weaker," said Ari. "Didn't you tell me you guys had like fifteen members now?"

"Right," said Steve, after a pause. "A lot weaker. But we're still here. And this time we're doing things differently. So you're going to want to talk to Fury, Buck. I don't always like his methods but he's a good man."

A good man was hard to find in this world. Bucky was surrounded by good people, good in their own ways, and he couldn't help but suppress the childish hope inside him that _he _could be a good man too. Not today, not even tomorrow—he still had dark stains he needed to try and make amends for—but one day he could the good Sergeant Barnes again. And if Natasha and Steve thought talking with this Nick Fury could help him on his way…then he'd do it. He didn't have any other options anyway, besides wandering aimlessly and trying to figure stuff out on his own. He still felt uneasy putting everyone's lives at risk by being with them—but then again, Natasha was right, wasn't she? She had a target painted on her back. Steve was Captain America, he'd always have people wanting to kill him. They were all dangerous in their own right.

"Fine," he said, taking a slow sip of his now ice-cold coffee. The caffeine sent a buzzing rush through his veins and made him feel more alert and awake. "I'll talk to him. I won't guarantee any more than that."

Natasha's lips curved up in a small smile. "That's all we're asking."


	14. Chapter 14

_Note: Alright guys, here we are. The end of the line. It makes me quite sad, because I've really gotten attached to these characters and I hate to leave them—but this is where the story should end and I feel like it's always best to end a story on the proper note, rather than dragging it out and ruining it. I'm actually not opposed to re-visiting these characters sometime in the future. I want to work on some of my other stories first, but if in the future I come up with a really good plot and I'm super motivated, I'd be up for bringing Ari and the gang back. We'll see! Maybe that's something to eventually keep your eye out for? Also, I've been writing a new Captain America 2 fic. It's a very different sort of story from this one, the style is different, but it'll go on for much longer than this one (I suspect), so if you're interested, check it out! I've posted the first chapter already, it's called "The Original Three." (And I should probably at some point get back to my Thor 2 fic…)_

_Thank you to every lovely person who has favorited, followed, and reviewed my story. Special thanks to those few people who left an awesome review every time I posted a chapter. I looked forward to your guys' reviews so much, they made me really happy. I've had a blast writing this story and I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! xx, Tinseltown. _

Nick Fury was back in America. He'd departed for Europe right after the fiasco in Washington D.C. had settled down but—unbeknownst to Sam or Steve—Natasha had called him the moment she realized the Winter Soldier was alive and was meeting with Steve. He'd immediately made his way back to the U.S., knowing that he would be needed eventually. He'd cautioned her to stay careful, to watch him closely, but to assist in whatever Steve needed her to. To watch and see whether the Winter Soldier was truly a different man. Whether he had changed. Whether he could join their side.

Or whether he needed to be taken down.

When Steve found out Natasha had gone behind his back and done this, he had been extremely angry. "Seriously? Fury knew this whole time?" he'd demanded. "You betrayed Bucky's trust."

"No, I didn't," she'd snapped. "In case you forgot, he sort of tried to kill us all a few weeks ago. _And _he's shot me before. I know _now _that he's changed but I didn't know it when you first called me, so you can't blame me for being cautious."

"She's right, Steve, you can't," said Sam. "I like Barnes as much as the next guy but I _was _a little nervous when you first called me about him showing up."

Bucky had sensed Steve was getting upset all over again—probably at the thought of Nick Fury ordering the Black Widow to take him out if she deemed him dangerous or untrustworthy (not that she ever could have, but Bucky humored her and pretended like she could have)—but he'd quickly said, "It's fine, Steve. I…I get why she did it. I was a menace."

"Are we done arguing now?" asked Natasha, sounding bored. "Because I want to get moving. Fury is waiting."

"Where is he?" asked Sam.

Natasha smiled mysteriously then. "Can't tell. Secret."

Ari bounded down the stairs, brushing her hair down. She wore skinny jeans, a gray-and-white striped t-shirt and black ballet flats. When she wasn't wearing all-black and running around a combat zone, she suddenly seemed so much smaller to Bucky. He and Ari had stayed here at Steve's last night. They had pretty much given up on going back to the hotel; neither of them had the energy to do so. So Bucky had stayed in the guest room and Steve had let Ari stay in his own bedroom like the gentleman he was. Ari had gone a bit pink in the face when he told her where she would be sleeping but Steve wouldn't hear any of her protests that she would be just fine on the couch.

"As if I'd let a lady sleep on the couch," he'd scoffed under his breath to Bucky when Ari couldn't hear. "Women these days aren't used to proper treatment." And so Steve had slept on the couch, which wasn't really big enough for him. That might have explained why he looked a bit cranky right now and kept rubbing the back of his neck as if he'd gotten a crick in it.

"I'm going too," said Ari breathlessly, smoothing down any flyaway hair that was escaping her high pony tail. She was wearing a little bit of makeup too and Bucky suspected she was trying to look professional. She looked nice. He didn't even realize that that was a detail he'd never have noticed over a week ago. Natasha looked nice too, but then, Natasha always seemed to effortlessly look nice, even after shooting several men in a matter of seconds and jumping over a bridge.

"I never had any intention of leaving you behind," said Natasha. "First of all, I knew you'd never agree to it."

It seemed, to Bucky, that everyone had figured out how stubborn Ari was.

"Second of all, Fury told me to bring you," he said. "He wants to talk to you too."

"M-Me?" Ari asked, looking taken back. "Why?"

Natasha and Steve exchanged looks that clearly said _Is she for real? _but neither of them chose to say anything. Natasha merely shrugged and said, "Who knows? We'll see," in a voice that clearly said she knew exactly why Fury wanted to see Ari too.

Bucky had wanted to set off as soon as possible because he was starting to feel a little jumpy and anxious at meeting Nick Fury and when he got jumpy and anxious, he still got a little more violent with his arms. He didn't want to end up destroying Steve's bathroom mirror or something. But—to his intense annoyance—Ari _insisted _that they eat breakfast. "Breakfast is important," she said threateningly. "I will never understand why Americans don't get this."

"He's more Russian than American," said Natasha. "Considering he was a Soviet soldier for so long."

"I'm _American_," Bucky snapped loudly. His cheeks and neck heated up when he thought about the fact that he'd fought alongside the people that technically should have been his enemies. He'd been no better than a neo-Nazi, even though he hadn't _chosen _it. The knowledge would always make him feel angry and dirty inside.

"Natasha, watch it," said Ari warningly and Bucky looked at her with surprise. Ari had so far maintained a good nature with Natasha. In fact, a part of Bucky thought Ari was a little (or a lot) intimidated by the Widow. He could understand why. The Black Widow was a force to be reckoned with. But Ari's tone was serious and no-nonsense right now, her arms were folded, and her expression was stern.

Natasha raised an eyebrow and looked questioningly at her. Bucky sensed an odd tension in the air and he couldn't help but wonder if it was a female alpha struggle. Both of them had iron wills and unbendable strength, in different ways. And neither of them took anyone's bullshit.

"Don't push his limits," said Ari. "He's not even close to mentally healed like a normal person. Sorry, Soldier," she added. "I know this makes you uncomfortable. But you need to give it a rest," she said to Natasha. "He's not well yet and you needling him isn't helping him."

"Wow, you really _are _a nurse," said Natasha, sounding mildly impressed. "Alright, I'll leave Barnes alone. But when he's all better, don't expect me to go easy on him."

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Ari, smirking slightly and Natasha smiled back at her. Steve, Sam, and Bucky exchanged bewildered glances, clearly not sure over what had just transpired between the two women but clearly too nervous to ask for an explanation.

After Ari was satisfied that they were all sufficiently stuffed with eggs and toast and orange juice, they clambered into the black SUV Natasha had brought from somewhere and they rolled off, Natasha driving this time. Sam had called shotgun and Steve had playfully shoved him away and while the two had squabbled in good nature for a moment, Ari had gracefully slipped in between them and clambered up onto the shotgun seat. Both of them had stared at her for a second while she smiled smugly at them and then Steve dove onto the seat next to Bucky before Sam could move and snickered while Sam climbed into the back, rolling his eyes.

It was certainly interesting to watch. Sort of like a surreal comedy show. Bucky supposed even superheroes had to keep things light at times.

Natasha drove through the city and then she went past the city limits to a much seedier part of the city. The buildings were covered in graffiti and homeless people sat at street corners, holding boxes and staring at people passing them by with vacant eyes. The houses grew smaller and skinnier and people sat on their front stoops, holding crumbled brown paper bags. Several young children played some sort of strange game that involved chalk and hopping and Natasha had to wait for them to scamper before she could maneuver around them. Bucky felt Ari tense next to him as she stared out the window and he wondered why she was afraid when she was in a car with four extremely capable fighters—but then she shook her head and muttered, "Disgusting."

"What's disgusting?" he asked in a low voice.

"The socioeconomic disparities," she said furiously. "These people are so underprivileged and underserved and there isn't enough focus on them. It makes me so mad. But it's hard to do something as one long person…"

"We've got a do-gooder here," said Sam, nodding at Ari with approval.

"Not a do-gooder," said Ari stiffly, still glaring out at the streets they were passing. "Just someone who cares about the welfare of those who not a lot of people care about."

Natasha pulled into a narrow alley and drove until the SUV couldn't go any further without scraping its sides. They all squeezed out of the car with some difficulty and then she let them over to a gray metal door with peeling paint set into the brick wall (that had been graffitied with what looked like "DAZ RULES 4 LYFE" or something to that effect; Bucky couldn't be sure, it didn't even quite look like English to him). She knocked six times in rapid succession, rapping out a certain beat—_knock knock-knock-knock knock knock_—and the door swung open. Natasha ushered them all inside and shut the door after them, dead bolting it.

The room ahead of them looked like the lobby of a skinny brownstone apartment building with cracked linoleum floors and dingy walls. Despite the terrible lighting and obvious rundown appearance of the place, it still seemed clean and he could hear the sounds of human activity and people talking somewhere nearby. Someone cleared their throat and he turned to see a blonde woman with shoulder-length waves and a face that seemed to signal that she missed nothing and saw everything. She was the one who had opened the door for them.

"Welcome back, Captain Rogers," she said politely, nodding at Steve. "Agent Romanoff. And these are…?"

"Sam Wilson, Ari Madden, and…Sergeant James Barnes," said Natasha, slowing down slightly on Bucky's name.

The woman's eyes narrowed slightly at Bucky's name and by the way her shoulders tensed for a moment in shock, he could tell that she knew who he was. She stared at him wordlessly for a moment and then she composed herself and smoothly side, "Nice to meet you. I'm Agent Sharon Carter, also known as Agent 13. One of the remaining members of SHIELD, actually."

"I thought you were seeking a position with the CIA," said Natasha, frowning.

"That's my day job." Agent 13 shrugged. "I'm still SHIELD, no matter how…low-key we are now."

"I wouldn't say _low-key _is the right word," murmured Natasha but she allowed Agent 13 to show them the way. Agent 13 took them up four flights of stairs and knocked on room number 44. They waited for a moment and then came a voice: "Send them in."

Agent 13 opened the door and ushered the group in. She closed the door behind them and then she was gone. Bucky looked around at the room he was in. It was a small apartment and they were standing in what would have been the family room, except it had been converted to what looked like an office reception area of sorts. A man leaned against a small desk in the middle of the room, his arms crossed. He was tall, well-built, and wore dark sunglasses and an all-black outfit that made him look quite tough. He was black and his mouth was pressed into a flat line. Bucky remembered standing on a rooftop across from Steve's old apartment, aiming his sniper rifle straight at this man and shooting him in the heart. He never missed. How had this man survived?

"Well, here we are," said Nick Fury, rubbing his hands together slightly. The dry sound made Ari wince next to him and he was sure she was lecturing him on the benefits of moisturizing properly in her mind. "Sergeant James Barnes. I see you've returned to us and with your memories fully intact. I suppose it's safe to assume that you no longer work for HYDRA and will no longer be attacking us?"

Nick Fury's voice was so full of leader-ish authority that for a moment Bucky thought he was back in the army, having orders barked at him from a higher-up. For a moment he was tempted to open his mouth and say, "Yes, sir." But no…he didn't answer to anyone anymore like that. Not an army general, not a HYDRA leader, no one. So he licked his dry lips and finally said, "Yeah. I don't work for HYDRA anymore."

"Good, I'm glad to hear that," said Director Fury, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Agent Romanoff, I trust the mission went well?"

"Yes, sir," she said. "No casualties on our side. We retrieved Sergeant Barnes' files and his memories. Gavin Hoffman is dead."

"Another cockroach down and yet there's so many more that are going to pop up." Director Fury sighed and then looked Bucky straight in the eyes, which was a bit disconcerting considering he couldn't _actually _see Nick Fury's eyes. "Do you know what Whack-A-Mole is, Sergeant Barnes?"

"Uh, no," he said, confused.

"It's a game children play at arcades," he started. Then he paused and asked Natasha, "Are arcades still a thing with the young people?"

"I don't think so, sir."

"Well…anyway. It's a game children _used _to play where there are several holes cut out into a box and you hold a hammer and you wait for a plastic weasel to pop up—and when it does, you have to smash it on the head to get a point. The weasel pops up quickly and leaves just as quickly and you don't know which hole it's going to pop up out of, so you need to keep both eyes open and watch every hole. That's not un-entirely what dealing with HYDRA has proven to be. In the weeks since you and Captain Rogers managed to singlehandedly destroy a portion of Washington D.C., I've been traveling and looking into HYDRA as much as possible. And what I've discovered is that HYDRA truly is like the hydra from Greek mythology. A many-headed monster. Cut off once head and two more rise somewhere else. We've cut off two heads so far—but you can rest assured that HYDRA is not anywhere near gone. They may be weak now, but they will rise again."

He stopped and looked at Bucky with Bucky guessed was probably a hard glance. Bucky had no response to this. Everything Nick Fury had said was true. Alexander Pierce himself had said it quite a few times. That was the reason the organization had been named HYDRA, apparently—because they prided themselves on their ability to never be truly killed off. "Hmmm," said Director Fury, seeming to take notice of Bucky's silence. "Anyway. I'll be talking to you, Sergeant Barnes. But first I'd like a talk with Aritamis Madden."

Everyone turned to look at Ari, who looked surprised. "Alone?" she asked, pointing to herself. "_Me_? Just me?"

"Yes, just you, Miss Madden," said Director Fury.

"Uh, sure," said Ari, clearly bewildered. Bucky heard her say, "You can call me Ari…" as they shuffled out of the room and then the door slammed shut and he couldn't hear anything anymore. He considered for just a miniscule moment pressing his ear to the door to hear what they were saying—but realized immediately that would be wrong on many levels. He couldn't trespass on Ari's privacy that way.

"So what now?" he asked.

Sam shrugged. "We wait."

"_You _wait," said Natasha. "My job here is done. I have to get going."

"Wait, Natasha!" Steve's hand shot out and grabbed her arm, yanking her back around. "Where are you—?"

"Retrieving Stark," she said. "He's still…shaken up from his encounter with that Mandarin character. He hasn't coped with what happened in New York as well as you have. So he may need some convincing to get over here."

"Couldn't Pepper just do that?" Steve asked.

"Pepper is dealing with her own issues," said Natasha. "She's not well right now. Don't worry, Rogers, I'll see you and Barnes soon enough. Stark has to take a look at his arm, remember? Among other things." She turned and gave Bucky a jaunty, sassy salute. "Sergeant. It's been great. See you later." Then she threw herself over the railing—Sam let out a startled cry—but when Bucky looked over the railing, he saw that she'd neatly landed like a silent cat on the floor four stories below and was stalking to the door. When the Black Widow was on the move, she truly was _on the move_.

Bucky crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, staring at his feet. Sam kept shuffling around and moving but Steve leaned against the railing, hands in his pockets, his baseball cap tilted down, also immobile. Bucky didn't know what it was for Steve—perhaps being frozen in ice for decades—but he knew at least for _him _that all his years of being the Winter Soldier had trained him to stand or sit still, frozen, for long stretches of time. He had once stood immobile for five hours, waiting for a South American leader to exit a party to have a rendezvous with a reporter on a balcony across the street. The five hours paid off. He didn't miss the shot. He got the reporter too, before she could even let out a scream at the man's head being blown off. Bucky winced at the gruesome memory.

"What's taking so long?" he mumbled to himself—just as the door flew open and Ari walked out. She looked a bit pink in the face and looked very far away. He raised his eyebrows at her and asked, "So what did you talk about?" but she waved him away and murmured, "Tell you later. Go in, he wants to talk to you alone." He watched, a bit confused, as she wandered down the hall and then down the stairs, almost as if she were in a dream. Clearly Director Fury had said something that had caught her majorly off guard. Bucky couldn't imagine what it was.

Steve nudge him. "Go on. Fury's waiting for you."

He squared his shoulders, steeled his courage, and then strode into the room, hoping he projected confidence.

"Close the door behind you, Sergeant," said Director Fury.

Bucky did so and then took a seat in the armchair in front of the desk, as Director Fury was motioning for him to do so. After a pause, he said, "You don't have to call me 'sergeant.' I'm not a sergeant anymore."

"Really? Well, I'm going to keep calling you 'sergeant'," said Nick Fury, taking a seat in the black leather chair on the other side of the desk. "That's your title. You never officially lost it. And you're a leader, I can tell from the looks of you. Does it bother you, me calling you 'sergeant'?"

"No," said Bucky in surprise. "I just—"

"Good," interrupted Nick Fury. "Because I wasn't planning on stopping." He clasped his hands together and looked at Bucky for a moment, not saying anything. Then he slowly pulled his sunglasses off to stare directly into Bucky's eyes. Perhaps he expected Bucky to gasp or show some sort of outward reaction to his ruined eye, but Bucky didn't move. He was used to seeing violence and damaged, broken bodies. A ruined eye was nothing to exclaim over. Nick Fury quirked one eyebrow and nodded to himself, as if he were saying, _Nice_, and then he said, "Tell me about yourself, Sergeant Barnes."

Of all the questions Bucky had been anticipating…this was not one of them. It caught him off guard. Talk about himself? Why? There was nothing to say. "What do you want me to say?" he asked roughly. "I was born James Buchanan Barnes. I got drafted into the war and then I got captured by HYDRA. They turned me into—"

"No, no, no, no," said Nick Fury, holding up a hand. Bucky halted in his speech. "You misunderstand me, Sergeant. I'm not asking for your history. I've become quite knowledgeable about that in the last few weeks and Agent Romanoff has briefed me. I'm asking about _you_. Yourself. Who are you? What do you stand for?"

"I—I don't know," said Bucky, a bit stunned. "I don't…I don't work for HYDRA anymore, if that's what your asking," he added, uncertain as to whether that was what Nick Fury was getting at. "I'm not on their side anymore. I don't like hurting people."

"But you'll do it if you have to." It wasn't a question. A statement.

"Yes," said Bucky slowly. "I'm a soldier. If I have to…I'll do it."

"Even innocent people?" Nick Fury's voice was calm, nothing judgmental in his tone.

Bucky paused and then swallowed. As much as he would have loved to say no…he couldn't. Because even back when he'd been Sergeant James Barnes in the war, he had hurt innocent people. They'd been innocent men with wives and children and friends, guilty only of the crime of fighting for the other side. "Yes," he said. "Even innocent people. But _not_," he added, "the way HYDRA made me. Not…not taking out people mercilessly just to further HYDRA's goals. Not that way."

"I understand," said Fury. He stood up and walked over to the small kitchenette adjacent to the room they were sitting in, opening the fridge. "Care for anything to drink? Tea? Orange juice? Water?"

Bucky suddenly realized his throat was extremely dry from nerves. "Water," he said.

Fury got him a glass of water from the fridge and then poured a tall glass of amber liquid for himself. "Iced tea," he said in response to Bucky's carefully watching eyes. "Just what an injured man needs on a hot summer's day. This damned building gets no air circulation at all—reminds me of summers spent in my granddad's apartment in Brooklyn."

An injured man…injuries given to him by Bucky. Bucky took a sip of the water, hoping it would clear his throat, and then roughly said, "About your…injuries. I, uh, I'm sorry. For shooting you. I obviously didn't…choose to do it on my own. I have nothing against you. But I still could have killed you, so for that…sorry."

"Apology accepted," said Fury, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his iced tea, his eyes closed.

"How did you survive anyway?" asked Bucky curiously.

Fury's good eye slitted open. "Why? Disappointed?"

"Wh—no!" said Bucky, clenching his fists a bit. His hands shook and a bit of water sloshed into his legs. "I just never miss a shot. So…"

"That's true," said Fury. "Don't worry, Sergeant, you didn't miss your mark. Lucky for _me_, Dr. Banner had a little invention that saved my life. You'll meet him in due time, I hope, and see for yourself the brilliance behind the legend."

"Dr. Banner," repeated Bucky. "He's…"

"The Hulk, yes," said Fury.

Bucky actually didn't know who the Hulk was but he vaguely remembered Ari telling him he was one of the Avengers—a ragtag team of superheroes that included this Tony Stark and Steve, that had managed to save the day two years ago. It wasn't exactly strange that he'd never heard of them; he'd been frozen in cryo at the time.

"What do you know about SHIELD, Sergeant Barnes?" Fury asked suddenly, changing the subject.

Bucky shrugged. "Nothing. I knew it was the organization under which HYDRA hid. I knew it was…just some government thing. Steve and Natasha are a part of it," he added.

"Your definition is surprisingly accurate now," Fury muttered to himself. Then he straightened up and said, "SHIELD is an espionage and law-enforcement division of the government that deals with containing threats—usually of the paranormal kind. It started out relatively unknown but became a household name after the Battle of New York—which is what the world has dubbed it, just so you know. It was started with good intentions but, as you know, HYDRA managed to infect it and bring about controlled chaos. It was something none of us—not even I—saw coming. And after the events in D.C. a few weeks ago…SHIELD is largely compromised. But it is not _done_. Yes, we're down to only a handful of people…but all of us still retain the goals the original team that formed SHIELD envisioned. A safer, more peaceful world with control over supernatural or paranormal elements. Control—not destruction. We don't aim to kill beings who are different. Just keep them in line. Do you know who started SHIELD?"

"Not a clue," said Bucky.

"Agent Peggy Carter," said Fury. He watched Bucky's face carefully and then slowly slipped on his sunglasses. "Ring a bell?"

Bucky's eyes had widened slightly. It did, indeed, ring a bell, now that he had his memories back. Peggy Carter—the fierce dark-haired woman with the red lips who Steve had been sweet on…_that _Peggy Carter? "Agent Carter was an honorable woman," he said.

"She still is," said Fury, smiling slightly. "Agent Carter is very much alive. Old and bedridden and ill, yes, sadly. But she is alive. And so are her ideals. As long as even one of us retains SHIELD's original ideals, then SHIELD remains alive to combat evil in the world. But we are greatly weakened, Sergeant. We need to build ourselves up again. Perhaps not to the level we were before. It seems it was a mistake to become such a huge organization. But we need members. People to fight—not _for _us, but _with _us. And that's why I wanted to talk to you and Ari Madden today. Sam Wilson has already agreed to join SHIELD. I was hoping you and Ari Madden would join as well."

Bucky cocked his head slightly, a bit confused. "Ari?"

"The woman has a sharp mind, good instincts, and morals as straight as an arrow," said Fury, "or so Agent Romanoff tells me. I also get the feeling she was a bit bored in her life before, from what she tells me. I think she would make an excellent SHIELD agent, provided she receive some physical training. And I think _you _would make an excellent agent. Despite what HYDRA did to you…you remain a good man. Maybe a little confused, but good. Physically, you're a fearsome fighter. And you would get to work side by side with your best friend, Captain Rogers. I can't think of any better way to utilize your skills than to join SHIELD and try to uphold the goals Agent Carter envisioned for the world."

Bucky's head was spinning. He had expected Fury to perhaps yell at him or offer some resources in assistance to hunting down other parts of HYDRA—but he'd never expected _this_. A part of him wanted to immediately say yes but a part of him hung back, wary of rushing right into another organization that clearly wanted to use his skills. He didn't want to be the pawn of another organization and even though SHIELD seemed better than HYDRA, obviously, he still didn't know much about them. He didn't want to be used to do terrible things again.

"Can I…I want some time to think this over," he said, choosing to state it instead of asking for it. He wasn't going to ask for permission; it was his life.

"Of course, take your time," said Fury, standing up. Bucky also stood slowly, setting his glass down onto the desk. "But consider this, Sergeant: HYDRA is still out there. Other threats are still out there. One day, the world will need the Avengers again. It's my hope that the next time the Avengers come together, the Winter Soldier can be a part of the team." And with that, Fury said, "You're free to go," and disappeared through a door at the back of the room, shutting it behind him.

Bucky stood there for a second, thoughts crowding in his head, and then he turned and left, walking a bit mechanically. Steve and Sam were sitting on the ground, talking in quiet voices to each other, and they stood up when Bucky came out. Steve wiped his hands on his jeans, leaving dust on them, and said, "Done? Fury's gone?"

"Yeah," said Bucky.

"What did he want?" asked Sam.

"Wanted me to join SHIELD."

There was a pause and then Steve asked, "And…are you going to?" Bucky looked up at him and saw the hope in Steve's eyes and forced a smile to his face. "I said I'd think about it."

"Oh," said Steve cautiously. "Oh, okay. Well…that's that. Let's get going."

They found Ari downstairs, curled up on a bench in the hall, earbuds in her ears. She was staring vacantly at the wall across the hall and her hands were tapping her thighs to the beat of the song, which sounded like a heavy and fast rock song to Bucky. When she saw them, she pulled out her earbuds and stretched. "All done? Yeah? Let's go."

None of them knew how Natasha had left to wherever she was going to, but she had left the car behind for them. Steve found a piece of paper on the dashboard with _I want this back so don't damage it, or else! :) _written in pink lipstick and he chuckled, pulling the Hummer out of the narrow alley without scratching even one inch of it. The drive back home was absolutely silent and when they arrived, Sam got out and apologetically said, "I'd love to stay and hangout—but I've been gone for long enough. Gotta call my mom, get back to work, all that great stuff. So I'll see you later, Steve." He hugged Steve and then surprised Bucky by pulling _him _into a hug too, clapping him hard on the back. "Hope to see you later too, Barnes. And I'd better see _you _around," he said to Ari, winking, and she laughed and hugged him. He got his motorcycle out from Steve's backyard and then rumbled off down the road, disappearing when he turned round the corner.

Now it was just Steve, Bucky, and Ari standing around awkwardly. "So…" said Steve slowly. He looked at Bucky and then at Ari and then at Bucky and then he said, "You know what? I have to run some errands. So you two…make yourself at home. I'll be back in couple of hours." He got his _own _motorcycle out of his garage, flashed Bucky and Ari a smile, and then roared out of sight. Bucky watched him go and then sighed and shook his head, smiling slightly. Steve was a good friend and Bucky knew now that he had dozens and dozens of years ahead of him to get to know his best friend again. A man worth knowing.

"What?" asked Ari, her eyes still locked onto the spot where Steve had vanished.

"He doesn't have any errands to run," said Bucky. "He just knows you and I have stuff to talk about."

"We do?" asked Ari apprehensively.

Bucky shot her a look. "Yes. We do." He turned and walked through the garage into Steve's house. It was warm and lazy inside, the ceiling fans turning slowly through the summer air, the house quiet except for a faucet dripping somewhere. Ari threw herself onto a sofa and Bucky sat down next to her. She wrapped her arms around her knees and then faced him. "So," she said. "What did you want to talk about?"

Bucky almost rolled his eyes but he refrained from doing so. "What did Fury want to talk to you about?"

"He wanted me to join SHIELD," she said slowly. "You?"

He nodded. "Same."

Her voice dropped lower. "And are you going to?"

"I don't know," he said. "I think so. I mean…I have to think about it. How about you?"

"I think…I think I'm going to," she said slowly, her blue eyes watching his reaction carefully. "I…I just…I want to do something different with my life," she said finally.

"Other than being a nurse?" he asked.

"No!" she said, sounding shocked. Then she laughed. "No, I love being a nurse. I love saving lives. But I just…I was stuck, you know? Stuck in that stupid house, in that stupid town, working at a hospital where the biggest emergency we ever had was Mr. Waldschmidt falling down his stairs on a monthly basis. And I was just…I wasn't going anywhere. I had friends but they weren't really _close _to me. I was stuck in that house, surrounded by my mom's china figures—"

"Yeah, those were kind of weird," said Bucky and Ari laughed again.

"—and memories of Dani and my parents and stupid reminders of Alex and…and it basically sucked," said Ari softly. "So when you showed up…I admit, part of my motive for taking you in and then bringing you to meet Steve was selfish. I obviously wanted to help you, of course I did—but it was also exciting. It felt like I was on an adventure, doing important things and meeting important people. Making a difference. And it felt so amazing and important and I just… And _then_, when we went to those HYDRA headquarters…even though it was violent and crazy and I was scared out of my mind the whole time that I would die or you would die or something, I was also _pumped_! You know what I'm saying? I had this amazing adrenaline rush. Like a high or something. And afterwards, it felt amazing. Having been in action. Successfully completing a mission. Saving people. Saving things. Doing good."

Bucky marveled at her words and realized that Fury was right—not only did Ari have a clever head, good heart, and straight morals…but she had an agent's instincts. She was quick to learn physical fighting and weapons and she had that endless energy one needed to constantly put themselves in danger. In fact, it seemed to thrill her a little bit. She had the right attitude. And in that instant, he knew she'd join SHIELD and she'd be a damn good agent as well.

"So your job?" he prompted, glaring at her slightly. "And your house?"

She smiled sheepishly. A ray of sunlight hit her face at a slanted angle as the sun moved in the sky and it made her blue eyes seemed to almost glow. "Yeah, I quit my job and promised Alex I'd sell my house…"

"You're insane," he said, torn between anger and incredulity, shaking his head. "You are _insane_. To do all that—for me? What is _wrong _with you?" He couldn't help himself; he reached out and shoved her, gently.

She shoved him back. "I know, I know, it makes me sound like some mental martyr or saint, right? But okay, I'm not _that _weird. I was lying to Alex about the house. I promised I'd sell it if he helped me. He only made me promise that because he knew me having to sell our parent's house would hurt me. But I was never planning on doing it, I was tricking him."

"He would have made your life a living hell when he found out," snapped Bucky. "He would have beat you up." Ari shrugged and Bucky's temper rose. He grabbed her wrist and shook it slightly. "You can't just let some guy beat you up! You have to attack him back!"

"You mean like how you're crushing my wrist right now?" Ari asked, wincing.

"Oh—!" He let go of her wrist as if her skin was white hot metal. "Sorry—I just got caught up—"

"It's fine," she said gently.

"I need to teach you self defense," he muttered. "You are so crazy."

"But I think I'm going to sell my house anyway," she added.

"What?" he demanded. "But—wait, _why_?"

She shrugged. "I've realized that I need to move on. I can't live in my parents' house—in their memories—for forever. I'll never be able to move on. I'll always be stuck in the past. It's not healthy. I need to get my own place, a brand new place where I can start over. Besides, if I join SHIELD, I'll need to move anyway. So I'm going to sell and get a brand new start. Same goes for my job. I only quit because I knew they'd never allow me so many days off, and I had actually planned on going back and re-applying. I knew they'd take me, they had no reason not to. But now? Now…I have new options. I can join SHIELD. Live in D.C. Become an agent and work as a medic or a nurse on missions. See the world. Get in on the action."

"You don't sound scared at all," Bucky noted.

She grinned and he could see in her eyes how happy and alive she was at the moment, her eyes practically sparkling. "I'm not! I mean—I am. In a way. This is a big step and its new stuff. But I'm ready to take it. _You _showed me that, Soldier, so thank you." She leaned in to hug him but he grabbed her thin shoulders and held her at arm's length, saying, "Wait! Wait. I have something to say to you too."

She sat back, looking at him expectantly. He took a deep breath and said, "This is hard for me to say…so don't make me say it twice." He took another deep breath, feeling extremely strange. Saying all this out loud was very uncharacteristic for him. "I want to thank you. You didn't have to help me. In fact, you could have driven right past me. I looked like a deranged person when you found me. And I wasn't responsive at all. But you stopped and you have me a second chance. And even though I was…I wasn't as kind as I could have been…" He coughed to hide his burning cheeks. "I have no doubt you saved my life. Without you, I'd still be wandering around, sick and confused—or I'd be dead because I would have gone running back to HYDRA on my own to figure stuff out. I'd never be reunited with Steve. I'd never have gotten my files. I'd never have gotten my memories back. You helped me become Bucky Barnes again and I'll always be in your debt for that. You've saved me multiple times and I want to say thank you."

Ari smiled and her smile looked a little wobbly but she wasn't crying. "It was nothing, Soldier, you don't need to th—"

"But I _do_," he insisted, running his hands through his hair, frustrated. "You don't understand. It's not that you just saved me, even though that obviously matters so much… It's that you…you made me care. You make me care. You made me feel human again. You helped me understand what caring for people and being a friend feels like. You're—you're important to me. You feel like…I feel safe when I'm with you. Which is funny, isn't it?" He gave a shaky laugh. "Because you're so small. But you…you're bigger than me. In ways. And I really couldn't imagine life without you as my friend anymore. I couldn't imagine you going back home and me never seeing you again. You saved me and you're one of my closest friends and I'm sorry if you don't feel the same way, I don't mean to—to back you into a corner, but—" He took a deep breath and noticed tears were sliding down Ari's face. "What?" he asked in alarm. "Why are you crying? Is it because of what I'm saying? I'm sorry. I'll stop talking—"

"Soldier, shut up," said Ari, smiling through her tears. "I'm smiling because I'm—I'm so happy you've come this far. I consider you my friend too. And don't worry about me disappearing. I'm going to join SHIELD. I don't know if you will, but I'm going to see you around. We're friends. Friends don't abandon each other, right?"

"I'm joining SHIELD too," he said. He hadn't realized it until a moment ago—but now he knew. It was the right decision. If he could utilize his skills for good, it might be able to cross out some of the terrible things he'd done in the past. Besides, he'd be with Sam and Natasha, Steve and Ari. He couldn't let these people go now that he knew them.

"Can I hug you now?" she asked, wiping away her tears, still smiling, "or will you push me away again?" Without waiting for an answer, she hugged him so hard that his eyes actually widened for a moment at her strength. And then he hugged her back. He hadn't hugged a human being in decades and at first, the feeling was foreign. But the more he held on to her, the more his eyes burned because the feeling was so overwhelming and then suddenly he was silently crying into Ari's hair. Which did, indeed, smell like roses.

But only for a minute. Because he was Bucky Barnes and Bucky Barnes didn't cry for very long. He quickly wiped his eyes before Ari could notice he'd shed a few tears and then pulled away, giving her a shaky smile. "You're an amazing person."

"I know," she said with faux-smugness and then they both chuckled. She ran a finger down his cybernetic hand and he marveled at the feeling of human touch. He glanced at her face and wondered. Several people had insinuated that he was in love with Ari and he had refuted them. And he still didn't know if he was in love with Ari. Love meant other things, didn't it? When he looked at Ari, he didn't feel the urge to touch her or be intimate with her. He didn't want that with her. But what he _did _know was that some things were more important than just human love and he knew that if he _had _to be intimate with any person on Earth, he would have picked Ari. So even though he didn't want to, the fact that he would have chosen Ari if he had to spoke volumes. He wasn't currently _in love _with Ari but did he love her? Yes. She had done for him what no one else had done and for that, he would care for her for forever.

And lucky for him, he had forever. He would join SHIELD, as would Ari. He would be trained, except this time he would make his own decisions. He would be human this time. He wouldn't be a pawn. He'd learn to be a hero. He'd get to know his best friend again. He'd get some sort apartment in town and he'd visit with Steve and he'd be Steve's rock again. He'd get to know Sam and Natasha better and he'd meet the Avengers. He'd read his files eventually and he'd mourn over the people that he'd hurt, but he'd be able to forgive himself eventually. He'd make friends in the future, even if it would take time, and one day, he'd meet some girl. Maybe he'd eventually fall in love with Ari (he _thought_ he could feel the beginnings of something there)—but the point was, his future was open for him to choose his own paths. To say "no" when he wanted to. To care for people with his own heart and mind. His story wasn't over and this time he was writing it himself. The world would know Bucky Barnes as a good man again.

There they sat in the warm summer afternoon, Ari holding Bucky's hand, enjoying the peaceful silence and waiting for Steve to come and rejoin them. And Bucky knew he'd finally come home.


End file.
